A New Player: Year Seven: Light of the West
by Faykan
Summary: Evil gathers around the defenders of Wizarding Britain, and Harry and our heroes quickly find themselves besieged on all sides. But if they are to reach their end goals of peace for the entire world, they must be proved by weathering this storm, holding to the truth that it is always darkest before the dawn.
1. Prologue

**Here it is, the Prologue of the final installment of ANP, and what a wild ride awaits us. I am so very pleased with all the readers that have tarried with me along the way as I created this story, and I hope that you all will see it through to the very end. but enough of my blathering, on with the story!**

 **A New Player, Year 7**

 **Light of the West**

 **Prologue**

 **No Rest for the Righteous**

Draco was horrified at Harry's words. "The dwarves, but why?" he asked, concerned. How had they been so quickly involved with their war with Voldemort? Faintly, Draco registered that it had been Harry and not Faykan who had so quickly formulated the answer.

"Because Voldemort is waging a war against all the free willed peoples of the earth, and with all the hatred between the orcs of Gundabad and the dwarves of Erebor, as well as their close proximity they are a strategic first strike." Faykan quickly speculated.

"But, what can we do, it's so soon after…" Draco trailed off. Dumbledore's death was still far too soon for him to adequately discuss.

"We do what we must," Harry said, lifting the scabbard with his sword, _Hadhafang_ , with a look of grim resignation in his eyes.

Just then, a rider arrived, mounted and ready for battle. "Lord Caelin and Kind Ceolwulf are ready for you my Lords. The Rohirrim are prepared to ride wherever the enemy goes."

"Excellent," Faykan replied, bashing their trunks and other unnecessary equipment into the tower for his house elves to organize while they were away. "We ride to the defense of the dwarves of Erebor."

"Very good my Lord!" the rider said, even as he turned and kicked his steed into action across the plain. Draco was glad that he had chosen to forgo the school uniform for the return trip and had worn his armor and robes that were embossed with the White Tree of Gondor. He was more than ready for whatever was to come.

The three of them followed the rider quickly, finding a sizeable contingent of the Rohirrim waiting for them with their leaders. There was no time spent in speeches as last time, and as soon as Faykan tore open the fabric of space and time to the northern mountain kingdom, they surged through with cries of death and battle.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Voldemort, Dark Lord of the earth smiled in pleasure as the armies of his enemies marshaled to do battle in the northern mountain valley. Even with the powers of an Istari and a Light Lord, the battle that was soon to commence would be taxing to them, and despite the knowledge that they would likely be victorious here; the storm that was approaching would consume them all in the end.

Nearby, Bellatrix snickered to herself, contented to even be near her Lord, but also keenly interested in learning what she could about their enemies. The woman would be more than adequate to assist in the death of Alatar, when combined with his considerable power would be more than sufficient for the deed.

Smiling in delight at the scene, Voldemort absently sent out the call for his loyal followers; for after the battle there was to be an important meeting among them all to set in motion his newest plans concerning the fate of this world.


	2. Chapter 1

**I am thankful for the smooth transition that was had on reviews and favorites to the final book of the arc, and the many kind words for the prologue. Not much to be stated as of now, so on with the story!**

 **Chapter One**

 **The Siege of Erebor**

Harry wasn't expecting to be thrown into another large scale battle so soon after the disastrous attack on Hogwarts, but clearly that wasn't to be the case.

They arrived on the far edge of the mountain valley, in a rocky field where the river swung in a wide arc around them. From his study of the maps in Orthanc, Harry knew that this was the ruins of Dale. But now where once a city of men had dwelled there was no more than scant traces of their mighty buildings may have once stood. From the north, Erebor loomed vast and majestic, and from where they were the sounds of a fierce battle was carried on the wind.

"Onward warriors of Rohan, to battle we ride!" Ceolwulf shouted, and together they surged forward, heedless of the oncoming sounds of great orcish drums. Mounting the final rise, Harry observed the carnage that had occurred before they could arrive. The dwarves of Erebor seemed to have been reinforced by their nearest brethren from the nearby Iron Hills, and the Dwarf Lords were making a valiant effort. Several ranks of shield walls were charging from the mountain against oncoming waves of the largest and darkest orcs that Harry had ever laid eyes on. Even with their superior numbers, they were hard put to press the dwarf forces back toward the mountain gates, but they were slowly managing it.

From the golden gleam of his armor, Harry spotted Lord Thráin atop the ramparts of the mountain, along with another dwarf that seemed even more impressive than the Lord of Erebor. "Náin is here," Faykan said in surprise. "How did the orcs know to strike when the King of Durin's Folk himself was here?"

"There is little we can do against a force so vast, my Lords," Ceolwulf said.

"There is little we need to do," Harry surprised himself by answering, "we must delay their forces until the dwarves of _Moria_ and _Aglarond_ arrive. They will know their King is threatened, and they will come with all haste, if they have not begun their march already."

"Then now is the hour," Cælin added.

Turning to Harry and Draco, Faykan looked sad, "I'm sorry to lead you both through so many perils."

Draco simply shook his head, "We would have followed you whether you wanted us to or not."

"So be it, then." Faykan replied stoically, gazing out on the hordes that awaited them.

They took their places at the head of the army of Rohan, and the wild horns of the eastern plains blasted out high and clear over the plains. Sword aloft, Ceolwulf sounded the charge, and the armies of the Horse Lords surged forth once more to battle. Harry cried the oaths of death and glory, and the elf-made sword in his hand shone forth with pale fire as he spurred forth to the head of his column. 'For Dumbledore,' he thought as he raised his weapon to meet their foes.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco, taking to the air on broomstick, watched with terrified fascination as the lines of riders crashed into the rear of the orcish ranks, trampling through the vile warriors and skewering many with their lances and spears.

Eyes magnified by a spell, Draco could see that even the dwarves were shocked and amazed at the timely arrival of the men of the plains. Surging forth atop his broom, Draco sped toward the Lord of Erebor on the ramparts of the mountain gate, leaping from the air to land before him and the other Dwarf-Lords.

"Lord _Telcontar_ , it's good to see you at this hour laddie." Thráin said, gratefully clapping Draco hard on the back. The others watched in silence.

"My Lord," Draco said hastily, trying to catch his breath from the jarring slap to his back and the speed of his decent to the ramparts, "you need to send forth all your warriors. The Dwarves from the south are on their way, and we need to buy as much time as possible."

The tallest of the Dwarf-Lords, wearing a jeweled crown of gold and a suit of mail that familiarly shimmered in the sunlight, seemed to take this as his cue to speak. "So this is the heir of Elessar; the one that that old meddler told you of nephew?"

"He is, Uncle," Thráin said, smiling at Draco as he spoke.

"Wizards…" huffed the other dwarf, "always showing up at the last minute, and always full of surprises, many undesired." He turned, and barked orders in the dwarven language at his guards, who turned and stormed away swiftly. "We'll play his game for now, and if we survive this day I suppose something will have to be done about him…"

And with that, the Dwarf King, Draco guessed, turned and strode away, yelling for warriors to make ready for battle, and for the gates to be unbarred.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry swung _Hadhafang_ again, severing an orc's head from the rest of its body as he rode past. They were almost through the first of several lines of armor warriors bearing down on the dwarven ranks.

Glancing up to find a new target, Harry spotted Faykan atop his own mount, crushing through orcs like they were toy figurines rather than deadly warriors. A bright flash exploded from his staff, scattering the dark orcs from around him. Then a bellowing roar caused Harry to whip his head around. A massive troll, easily twice the size of the one Faykan fought nearly six years ago, was wading through the combatants toward him, huge spiked club swinging back and forth in the air.

Harry did not waste time deciding how to respond to this threat, he charged headlong at the troll, ducking the club as it swung over him, and with a whispered spell, Harry struck. _Hadhafang_ flashed through the air like lightning, slashing a deep line across the exposed neck of the troll just under its hideous skull-like helm. Black blood burst outward as the troll dropped in a heap, but Harry had no time to concern himself with its death throes. Pressing onward, Harry heard the blast of ram horns from the direction of the mountain.

A roar from the front lines of defenders turned his head briefly to the front of the mountain. The great stone doors to Erebor had swung wide, and more warriors were pouring forth. Harry saw Thráin at their head, along with Draco and another dwarf that seemed somewhat taller than the rest, clad in gold armor and surrounded by elite guards. This must have been Náin, King of the Dwarves; there was no other option for who the dwarves would so quickly rally behind. Warcries and oaths of blood and vengeance filled the air as the King of Durin's Folk led his people to battle.

"Behold!" Harry yelled, rallying the warriors around him, "The King of the Mountains has come!"

The men of Rohan cheered, and surged once again onto their foes. The orcs may have had two fronts to fight, but they still had great advantages of numbers. There seemed to be little they could do to stop the limitless hordes of the enemy.

"Harry!" he turned and saw Faykan ride up beside him, "We need to open a portal big enough for the Borin and his army to join us. With them we can turn the tide of this battle!"

Harry nodded, and together the two powerful wizards began to funnel magic energy through the silver and sapphire staff while several warriors of Rohan kept a wide perimeter around them.

The air shimmered as a faint blue glow started to emanate from the large gem. There was a crackle of electricity and slowly a rift began to expand outward in a wide circle. Before it was even at its fullest size, Borin leapt through, massive battle axe in hand, and iron armor studded with jewels. " _Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu_!" he roared, and surged forward into the fray, ranks of fresh soldiers at his back, practically spilling out of the portal as fast as they could manage.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco stabbed through another orc, throwing the vile creature backward off the blade of the king and bowling over one of its fellows. He was at the head of the dwarven defenders, alongside Thráin and Náin and their guards as they became the spear-point of their side of a grand pincer. The blast of magic from the far side had Draco guessing what Faykan was at work with this time, but he had no time to figure it out, as the orcs were pressing their line with all the aggression they could muster.

The newest wave had a large pale beast in the forefront, and Náin leapt at it with a roar of rage, metal shield bashing the orc's weapon aside, which allowed the Dwarf King's own axe to strike, clanging hard off the armor plates that had been fastened directly onto the creature's skin.

The powerfully built pale orc wheeled on Náin and bull rushed the stouter being, knocking the King of Durin's folk backward. Thráin yelled for his Uncle, and the elite warriors pressed forward, but many more orcs swarmed around the pale one, blocking the dwarves from their king.

Draco however, had more up his sleeve than just a melee weapon however. As the massive orc bore down toward the King, Draco's wand slashed through the air, and a whip of fire was conjured, snagging around the massive and crude sword in the claw-like hand and heavily burning the pale flesh. The momentary distraction gave Náin the time he needed to regain his footing and ready his weapons. Draco then switched to a burst of offensive magic, blasting hexes and piercing curses meant to hamper and causing internal damage to the beast while Náin hacked at its armored side to keep it busy.

One of Draco spells hit its mark just as Náin's axe found the beast's unprotected side. The pale orc fell, crashing to the ground just as the shouts of dwarven reinforcements sounded were heard from the far side of the battle.

The orcish army, unable to understand where more dwarves were arriving from, started to flee to the northwest, abandoning the battle just as it started to become a fair fight.

"Cowards!" Náin shouted in contempt at the fleeing orcs, swinging his bloodied axe above his head. "Defeating the sons of Durin won't be so easy!"

"Uncle!" someone called from the center of the battlefield. Draco turned to see Borin wading through the sea of corpses toward them.

"Borin!" the Dwarf King said, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes lad!" Draco's breath caught when an orc that had fallen, but wasn't quite dead, lunged from the ground at the King. The Dwarf casually dodged backward, and then brought his axe in an overhead strike, severing the offending creature's head from its body.

"How'd you get here so fast Nephew?" Náin asked, but Draco suspected the answer immediately.

"Why don't you ask him how yourself?" Borin said, turning to look behind him. Náin stiffened as Faykan and Harry came into view. "Hail, King Náin…" Faykan said merrily.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix looked up from the scrying basin, somewhat fearful of her Lord's potential ire, but Voldemort was smiling as he watched the fleeing armies. "My Lord?" she asked, concerned for his lack of emotion.

"This defeat is of little consequence, dear Bella. Our wayward allies in the north are serving a useful purpose even in their selfish reluctance to obey my direct commands. Still, they proved a valuable distraction for my enemies, who will continue to expend energy on them now, quite possibly in a counter attack on Mount Gundabad. Now come, we have plans to make and a war to commence…"

Bellatrix followed obediently, taking a final glance back at the basin, and considering some of the odd changes in the Dark Lord over the last two years. He had significantly changed from when the orc had presented him with the ring of power. Bella was surprised that she couldn't even see it on the Dark Lord's long slender hands anymore.

Then there was the significant turn of events in his combat strategies. During the first war, her Lord was more inclined to wage battle from the shadows, striking politically or by assassination to achieve his ends. But now… now he was willing to fight in the open, as a tide of power that would wash out anything that stood against it.

Still, Bella was more than willing to continue with the war on those who blood was not pure to know of magic. When the pair of them reached the spacious room that the Dark Lord had transformed into his council room, Voldemort immediate took his spacious seat at the head of a long table. Bellatrix sat slightly down the table from her Lord, between Rabastan and Lucius.

The last members to arrive were Snape and Yaxley, and Voldemort called them to sit in their respected places so that the meeting could begin. "So?" the Dark Lord began, addressing Snape first.

"My Lord," the man started, "the Order of the Phoenix intent to move Harry Potter from his relative's house on Saturday next at nightfall, far sooner than they though any of us would expect." The rest of the room's interest sharpened palpably. Bellatrix felt her pulse quicken, she had seen Potter at the battle in the north. It was quite apparent that the boy could come and go at will without their knowledge already. Why would such a mistake be made when they could easily have moved the boy long ago?

"Saturday… at nightfall," the Dark Lord repeated. His crimson eyes pierced into Snapes black one with such intensity that many other Death Eaters looked away, fearful that their own secrets might be seen by their master. Snape met the gaze dead on, and after several moments Voldemort's mouth curved into a small smile.

"Good. Very good. And this information comes…"

"…from the source we discussed," Snape replied, but Bellatrix did not know what who he referred to.

Bellatrix glanced at her Lord as Yaxley started to offer his views about his contacts in the Ministry and their knowledge about the boy being moved closer to the end of July. The Dark Lord met her glance, and Bella knew that he was suspecting the same thing that she herself was. Potter was not at his relative's home, if he had been prior at all. Attacking the muggle house was a trap. The real question was whether Severus or Yaxley was a traitor and feeding them false information.

Bellatrix suspected Snape more than the idiot Yaxley, but the Dark Lord had always placed the utmost confidence in the surly Potions Master, and she had no reason to disbelieve her Lord in the matter. Nevertheless, she would keep her eyes on these two, just in case what she suspected proved to be true.

"Yaxley," the Dark Lord said, cutting off the side conversations of the Carrow twins, "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?"

Again, all heads turned to face the man. Yaxley squared his shoulders self importantly as he answered, "My Lord, I have good news regarding that endeavor. I have, with difficulty and after great effort, succeeded in placing the Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse."

An impressive feat indeed, Bellatrix admitted. Thickness had an power will about him, and to subject that to the service of the Dark Lord required an equally powerful charm. "It is a start," Voldemort congratulated. "But Thicknesse is only one man. I desire Scrimgeour to be surrounded by our people before I claim the Ministry as my own. I will be most… displeased… if our takeover is set back by a failed attempt on his life."

"Y-yes my Lord; of course my Lord," Yaxley stammered. Bellatrix did nothing to hide her grin at the man's weakness in front of the Dark Lord. The rest of the meeting turned out to be a bore in comparison, so Bellatrix amused herself by staring around the room at a random Death Eater until they grew agitated by her gaze, then moving on to the next one. Only Snape seemed impervious to her mad gleam, but he had never had much reaction to anything since he joined their ranks.

Soon enough the meeting was adjourned, and the other Death Eaters filed away to return to their other duties. Bella was about to join them, when the Dark Lord called her back once again. "My dear Bella," he said silkily, "I know that you recognized the same implication that I myself had with Severus' report. Harry Potter is not in muggle Surry, and has not been there for a long time yet."

"No my Lord, it is clear that he is not," Bellatrix agreed immediately.

"Such as this was the case, I have a… special plan for you to head, with regards to the muggle relatives of my foe…"

Bellatrix giggled at the sinister gleam in her Master's eyes as he detailed his chosen plan to her.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry carefully watched the short interaction between King Náin and Faykan, noting the carefully hidden contempt in the old dwarf's eyes as he watched their approach.

"Hail, King Náin." Faykan said merrily, but Harry heard the note of indecision in his best friend's voice. Faykan was just as uncertain about the outcome of this meeting as the rest of them. Náin could prove to be just as vicious a foe as the orcs they had just driven away, or he could become a great ally.

"I do not accept good greetings from you, old meddler. Your form may be young, but I can see the wheels spinning in your twisted mind from here. I have nothing but ill will toward you or whatever news you bring!" Náin spat back. His two nephews, Lords Borin and Thráin looked on in sadness as their Uncle and King stormed away. For a moment, Harry thought that they too would depart soon, but Faykan walked forward, following the Dwarven King as he proceeded back to Erebor.

"Náin, you know that your forces would have been overwhelmed if not for our arrival. How well does it speak of your line if you were to refuse those who gave you aid in a desperate hour?"

"If it is your aid that I am offered, I will gladly take my leave of it." Náin shouted as he strode away, "I want nothing to do with wizards or your affairs!"

"It was the affair and aid of wizards that won you back this mountain originally, if I recall correctly," Faykan shot back, causing the dwarf King to halt. Náin turned, fuming, and Harry wondered if he would call his guards. "What do you want, you menace?" he demanded, frustration evident at being back into a corner my Faykan's persistence.

"You know of what we seek Náin," Faykan said slowly, trying not to agitate the Dwarven King any further than he had already, "we need your help, in arms and forces, to combat the same evil we have driven away this day. The orcs didn't attack of their own accord. You know this better than most others here. I tell you that the Dark Lord Voldemort is commanding these creatures, and if we do not stop him, they will return to wipe out the line of Durin entirely."

"And why should I trust anything you have to say or request of our people?" Náin said, glaring at Faykan with what Harry spotted as hurt and distrust, "Especially after you sided with our enemies one more occasion that I care to remember."

"You'll still not let that one instance go will you?" Faykan said, shaking his head sadly.

"You know that I cannot. After thousands of years of alliance between the dwarves and races of men, brought by your kind no less, you go and turn to aid the goblins when we were about to wipe their filth from the Misty Mountains for good." Náin shouted. "And then you turn to us for aid when their relatives come against you. How can I trust you to do what is the right course of action this time?"

At last, Harry understood the quarrel between King Náin and Faykan. The wars between goblins and dwarves had been fought over many hundreds of year, sparked at first by the last Dwarf King by the name of Durin, when he led a force in retaking the Kingdom of Khazad-dûm late in the Fourth Age. Since then, the vendetta between the two races boiled hot, and war ravaged the Misty Mountains for over two ages of the world, wreaking devastation upon both races.

During the final battle, when the last major stronghold of the Goblins was just about to be besieged, an Istari, whom Harry now guessed was Faykan himself, intervened, crying out at the leaders of both nations to observe the destruction they were causing upon themselves. The Goblin King, being less brutish and hostile than many of his predecessors, looked out of his fortress over the carnage, and openly wept, yelling for truce and peace between their peoples. But the Dwarf Lord in charge of the attacking forces would hear none of it, and challenged the Istari for their right to destroy the goblin nation once and for all.

It had ended badly, for the Istari was forced to show a portion of his power, and injured many of the dwarven warriors before their leader called a retreat, crying that he would never trust the likes of wizards again, nor his family for all generations of time.

That distrust was what permeated here now, along with fear of Faykan's power quite likely. "Because," Faykan said slowly, "despite everything that happened all those years ago, I had never diverted from the protection of the free peoples of the earth. Your grandfather was blind to the suffering of his own people during those wars, and if I had not intervened, both your people and the goblins would have been wiped out from existence. And look, from that event, those goblins formed a beautiful nation that shunned their violent ways, for the most part. They created good and beautiful things, and became as free willed a people as men or dwarves ever were."

"Bah!" Náin scoffed, waving a hand dismissively at Faykan, "some argument your set yourself upon, meddler. You know well as I that the spawn of darkness could never be more than vicious destroyers of all that is good. If you have nothing else to support your claims, then gladly remove yourself from my presence."

"Have you heard nothing you old fool!" Draco shouted, causing all there to turn to him. Harry smiled as he saw the boy's hand firmly grasping the sword _Andúril_ by the sheathed hilt, and he felt in his heart that the boy king was guided in his role by some unseen force from within the elf enchanted weapon.

"Who dares to mock the King of Durin's Folk!" Náin shouted at Draco, who rose to his full height to meet the dwarven Kings verbal abuse.

"I do. I _Sgiathatch Telcontar,_ heir of the house of _Elendil_ of the men of _N_ _ú_ _menor_ ; I to whom the Council of the wise has given the Sword of the King." Draco declared, causing the King to back down a step, realizing that he spoke to an equal, possibly even more than an equal.

"Very well, very well!" Náin said angrily, throw his hands up in frustration, "you can have your arms and weapons for your war, but I will not spare more of my warriors on anything short of a full scale invasion of Gundabad."

"We thank you for your generosity King Náin, perhaps we will be able to assist that attack when we've accomplish a few important tasks, if you'll have us as reinforcements once again." Faykan said wearily.

"Hmph…" Náin huffed, "If you were to show up, we may have a use for you and your fighters, I suppose. Wizards do have a good use for battle at least…"

Harry hadn't been so glad to depart from any place more than the battlefield before the mountain and the overly proud dwarf King.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Severus sighed in relief when he apparated to the clearing that surrounded the tower of Orthanc. After nearly a week around the Dark Lord, returning here to the bastion of the forces of Light was like a breath of fresh air in the Potions Master's lungs.

And yet, there seemed to be an air of tension about as he walked through the sea of tents that the Rohirric refugees had set up around the black stone tower. If Severus was to guess, it seemed that they had just returned from a battle, but he wouldn't know for sure until he spoke with Harry, Draco and Faykan.

Entering the dark wood doors that still had faint paint on them from a bygone age, Severus paused to take in the aura of powerful magic that wafted over him like a warm blanket on a cold night. The three seeming young wizards were easily found in an upper library room, perusing through the ancient tomes and other manuscripts.

"Ah, Sev, good to see you," Faykan said cheerfully, setting aside what looked to be a muggle fiction novel, "any news?

"Indeed, more that even I care to know of." Severus said, the grim memory of the Dark Lord still fresh in his mind. "The Dark Lord seeks to attack Harry's muggle relatives in the hopes to get at Harry before he is 'moved' to a safe location."

"Ah," Faykan said, nodding as he smiled, "do you think he believes out little plot?"

"I'm not certain, he didn't immediately make any plans to attack the date we set for, and he held Bellatrix back afterward for a private conversation, it doesn't bode well." Severus admitted.

"Does he suspect you?" Harry asked from his seat.

"Again, I can't say for sure," Severus said tiredly. "It would be a fair guess to hold off too much more planting of false information. Meanwhile, I have been assigned by the Dark Lord to be the new Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Good, couldn't have happened to a more qualified wizard." Faykan replied, smiling still. "I'm sure you will do Dumbledore's memory proud in protecting the students this year. Especially with all the new measures that Voldemort is sure to place on admittance and discipline."

"I shudder to imagine," Severus agreed. He was about to continue with his report when a bird soared in through the window toward Faykan. Reflexively raising an arm, the Istari allowed the grey and white gull to land, and immediately relieved it of its package. Immediately the bird took to flight again, disappearing through the window as quickly as it had arrived.

"What's that?" Draco asked from the desk at the far side of the room which he was reading at, but Faykan didn't answer. The boy was smiling again, and turned to toss the package gently to Harry. "You'll want this Harry." he said, and the green eyed boy caught the little parcel with his Quidditch skill.

Harry opened the package, and Severus widened his eyes as the fist sized emerald in a setting of gold was revealed. The well finished gem gleamed in the light from the window. "What is it?" the boy asked, while Severus turned immediately to Faykan.

"You've got to be kidding me?" he asked, which caused all three of the young men turned to him. "Harry is one like you? Since when did this happen?" he demanded.

"That, is probably one of the longest stories I could tell you right now, Sev," Faykan said slowly, "but as you know what happens next, would you care to fill Draco in while Harry and I perform the ritual to build his staff?"

Severus glanced at Draco, who looked highly confused at the turn of events, and he nodded. Faykan beckoned for the three of them to follow him, and together they proceeded upward, taking only a single detour to a small side room that had been turned into a greenhouse filled with plants that even Severus had little knowledge of. In the very center was a large, magically potted and pure white tree, its branched completely devoid of leaf or fruit. The limbs were strong looking however, despite being very long and slender.

Draco however seemed to recognize the tree immediately, "Is that…"

"Yes," Faykan answered as he pulled off a nearby table an ancient set of secateurs and approached the tree. "It is a juvenile version of the White Tree of Gondor, one that I had nurtured and protected over the years, it's nearly dead now however, but I did manage to save and preserve many seeds for the future."

With great care, he reverently knelt and severed the longest branch at its base, which was easily as long as his whole body. "This will be perfect," he said as he straightened up and tested the branches weight and flexibility. "A fitting match for a descendent of the Kings," Faykan finally declared, presenting the shaft of wood to Harry.

Before any of them could ask the Istari a question however, Faykan had taken off again, leading them up to the pinnacle of the tower, where he started a nonstop explanation to Harry of the small ritual that would fuse his old wand with the new components and create a powerful staff like his own. Meanwhile, Draco leaned toward Severus. "Do you know what's going on?"

"A vague idea at best, but this will prove very insightful to watch…" Severus said briefly as Harry slowly began the ritual, guided by Faykan. " _taur leuthil ar' temol en' kalina auta vee' er tehta en' poldora ar' val_!"

Severus had seen the end result before, but Draco's mouth opened slightly as the three items began to float into the air, and merged in a blinding flash of lift, transforming into a runed white staff crowned in gold and emerald. It radiated with pure magical power, seeming to blaze like a tiny green sun.

As Harry hefted his new weapon, the small black-haired boy's eyes shimmered with white light, and his robes flared to a brilliant green color. He smiled as he tested the staff in his hand and Faykan nodded in approval.

"I believe it is time to call our allies together once again, and speak of our new objectives," Faykan announced as they started back down the stairs of the tower.

"Yes," Harry agreed instantly, "The more eyes in secret we have searching for the Horcruxes, the quicker we may find them."

Severus paused momentarily at the seemingly instant switch of maturity on the part of Harry. If anything it reminded him of the way Faykan had acted for the first four years he at Hogwarts while hiding in plain sight.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione sighed as she sat in her room for the last time. It was quickly proving far too dangerous for her to continue living in the muggle world, especially with all the new Ministry decrees that were rolling out against all non-Purebloods.

The downside was that her parents would never approve of her simply vanishing out of their lives out of the blue. Which was why, against her previous inclinations, Hermione had opted to temporarily erase their memories of her parents and have them both just up and move to Australia or The States. Anywhere far away from Voldemort and his armies would be fine for the time being.

But the burning of the D.A. coin in her pocket meant that she was to be summoned to Orthanc, and there was little time even for proper goodbyes. Silently, tears flowing down her face, she packed a purple beaded handbag that she had expanded at the end of the previous term. As she slowly descended the stairs, she watched as her parents watched the tele for several minutes, before finally leveling her want and whispering, " _Obliviate_ …"

Working her magic carefully, she locked away all memories of herself from both of them, and planted a desire to move out of the country and travel abroad. Finally, while they were in a dazed state of confusion they would not remember, she kissed each of them goodbye, and grasped the coin tightly, thinking of Isengard. A swirl of blue and she appeared in the grassy courtyard before the tower.

Children laughed and played as they ran between the sea of tents, and Hermione felt a small smile creep up her face as she walked between the milling people. Occasionally she would spot a centaur or dwarf walking among the many people, garnering much attention and rumors as to something large being planned by the White Council.

Summoning her courage, Hermione squared her shoulders, hefted her bag, and walked straight to the doors of the ancient Gondorian outpost. What she wasn't prepared for was to walk straight into a full meeting of the Council.

Harry, Draco and Faykan smiled at her in greeting, but they turned as the one centaur present in the meeting spoke up. "Our herd is grateful for the supply of weapons and armor; it has indeed been a long time since the races of centaurs were given such a role of trust. Many are more than willing to take up arms and fight, although the elders still cling to the old interpretations of the stars and remaining out of the affairs of wizards."

"Some allies are better than none," Harry said reasonably. As Hermione quietly walked around the outer parameter, trying her best to not disturb or distract anyone from the meeting, she got a good look at Harry. She was stunned to see a pure white staff resting in his hand, crowned with a large Emerald in a gold setting. The boy was also wearing striking green robes that matched the color of his eyes perfectly. For all intents and purposes, he appeared exactly like Faykan in all but color and facial features.

Faykan nodded in agreement, "Harry is correct, we can use all the warriors and those willing to fight that we can. Even noncombatants who want to contribute whatever they can are more than welcome. I expect this entire year to be the hardest when it comes to fighting, and we need to be ahead of our enemy as much as possible."

As Faykan continued, Hermione saw Draco turn to look at her, and she paused when he looked questioningly at her. Wiping at her face Hermione realized that there were still tear steaks marring her otherwise clear skin. Waving away Draco's concerned look, she turned toward the staircase up to the guestrooms midway up the tower.

Along the way, the weight of her decision started to press down, and Hermione felt fresh tears threaten to crawl down her face. "Hermione?" someone said, and she turned to see Ron exiting the floor ahead where the rooms they had used before were located. "Are you alright?' he asked as he spotted her tear streaked face.

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied quickly, but Ron gave her a knowing look.

"What happened Hermione? You're crying…"

"I…I…" she stammered, flustered. Ron put a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, offering whatever support he could, "I obliviated my parents…" she whispered before breaking down entirely.

Ron said nothing, just held her comfortingly as her emotions swept through her. Slowly, Hermione calmed down, the knowledge that she had done everything she had to protect her family, and that Ron and her other friends were here to support her through the tough times ahead.


	3. Chapter 2

**I have officially completed writing the ANP arc. aside from some last minute editing and such I am now moving on to 'The Stormreaver' as voted, (since The Lord Protector was picked up by another author that I will be assisting in the writing of it.) Cheers!**

 **Chapter Two**

 **Aerial Ambush**

Harry was concerned over Hermione's seeming distraught state, but not until the end of the meeting did he have the opportunity to check up on her. When he arrived in the corridor with her room, he found Ron exiting Hermione's room with a thoughtful expression. As he approached, Ron held up a finger to his lips.

"She's sleeping now," he said quietly after they stepped away from the door.

"What was wrong?" Harry asked.

"She feared for her family's safety, and obliviated them of her existence, as well as making them want to move as far from here as they could." Ron explained quickly.

Harry nodded. It would make sense for Hermione to be somewhat distraught about doing what was needed to protect her loved ones. He did feel better that she was here at Orthanc with them rather than out in the muggle world though, as Hermione was probably one of the most valuable people they had for fighting Voldemort. Her researching ability alone far outstripped the rest of them combined, and would be needed if they were to discover where the real locket and other Horcruxes were hidden.

Before they could devote all their time to searching out the vile items as of yet though, they had to deal with the potential threat to Privet Drive. From what Severus had conferred to the White Council, they knew that Voldemort and his followers were greatly interested in what time Harry supposedly would be moved from the muggle home to a safe house, but it was clear to anyone who paid attention to where Harry had turned up to fight that he was not confined to the residence for his own protection.

If Voldemort even so much as suspected that he was not there any longer, he might attack just out of spite for thinking that Harry would come to the Durleys' rescue. Until summer two years previously Harry would have not even considered going too far out of his way to protect his Uncle's family, but Dudley had proved himself to be breaking the mold his parents had trained him so well in, so Harry found himself unwilling to simply send Order members to move them or something else so impersonal.

If it was time for him to return to Private Drive one final time to make sure that the Dursleys understood the danger and fled for their lives, then he would do so.

Faykan was clearly of the same opinion, and had already voiced his willingness to warn the muggle family, despite the treatment they had both been given for so many years.

Departing from Ron in the dormitory corridor, Harry went to the top of the dark stone tower where Faykan waited for him. "You ready?" he asked, watching Harry for any hint of doubt.

"Yes," Harry replied, steeling himself for the bile that his Aunt and Uncle may throw because of their return. Faykan nodded, and spun on his heel, disapparating on the spot. Visualizing the boring neighborhood strongly from memory, Harry pushed through space with his magic and will, and tore open a small hole for him to twist through, and entered silently with a slight spin on his heel.

A soft popping sound was all that he heard, accompanied by a far more gentle pressure on all sides, and the area around him melted from the scenery of Fanghorn to the plainness of Surrey.

The pair of wizards quickly approached Number Four and, fully aware of the welcome they would receive with their robes and staffs, knocked sharply on the front door. Harry stifled a groan of annoyance when Uncle Vernon opened the door and widened his eyes in fury upon seeing them.

"Vernon," Faykan said neutrally, "we need to talk, urgently."

Uncle Vernon clearly had no such desire, and attempted to slam the door in their faces, but Faykan had manipulated his staff in the way, and the magically enhanced wood would not budge. "This concerns the life of you and your family Mr. Dursley," Faykan continued, "if you would give us but a few minutes of your time to explain, we can get you all to safety and you can continue your perfectly magic free existence."

Vernon continued to throw his weight into the door for a few moments, before noticing that a few of the neighbors were watching from their windows as two brightly colored people stood on his doorstep. Glaring in abstract rage at them, he mutely opened the door and permitted them entrance.

As they turned into the very familiar sitting room, Petunia and Dudley realized who had entered. Petunia gave a small muted shriek of anger, while Dudley smiled widely at seeing Harry. but the smile was replaced with outright confusion at seeing Faykan, unmasked from his standard illusions. "Piter?" he asked, "But, you were dead… Harry told me…"

Petunia looked aghast at her son's words, but Faykan gave the youngest Dursley a small smile, "reports of my death were greatly exaggerated…" he replied teasingly.

"Well," Vernon said angrily as he entered the room, "say what you have to say and get out."

"As you wish," harry replied, "Faykan, the shades and lights if you will." As his best friend waved a hand to shut out all outside light and shut off the bulbs in the sitting room, Harry places his staff standing straight up in the center of the room. Once the outside light was dimmed as much as possible, the solid emerald with in glowed a brilliant blue. "I would ask you all not to interrupt while I show you what is coming to threaten you, and why we feel so strongly that you all need to be moved as soon as possible." Harry said, knowing that it would do little to stop his Aunt and Uncle from being themselves, but they had been warned nevertheless.

The glowing staff started displaying images of the Death Eaters, showing the dark power that they used to capture, torment and kill muggles and their fellow wizards. Orcs, giants, dementors, among many other Dark Creatures were displaying in turn, finally ending with Voldemort himself, and the vicious cruelty that he displayed to anyone that stood in his way.

"All these and more are coming for you all specifically," Harry said after the short display ended, "Voldemort will stop at nothing to harm me, and if he thinks that harming you will get at me, he would try it, even if it was only partly true. We're not completely certain when he will attack, but it will be soon…"

"Wait, wait, wait…" Vernon started, but Faykan cut him off, "There's no time to completely assure you of all the madness you would demand Vernon. All you need to know is one big bad scary wizard has you and your family targeted because your related to Harry, and if he didn't have a sliver of care for you we would have let him have you. Be thankful that we are the good guys and whether you like it or not, you will not be here when he descends on your house."

Like a big mouth bass, Vernon was gulping at air as the two powerful wizard countered all his bluster and arguments in one fell swoop. "But, why do you even care?" Petunia said hesitantly.

"I have my reasons," Harry said mysteriously, glancing at Dudley. The stocky boy knew exactly the reason Harry was helping them, but his parents didn't need to fully understand.

"If it were up to me, you'd be used as bait for the trap we intend," Faykan commented to Petunia, which silenced her. "The fact stands, Harry has moved for us to transport all three of you safely elsewhere for the duration of the oncoming war. If you desire, or care, we may contact you when it is safe, but otherwise this will be the last time we meet. Your compliance is mandatory."

"I'll go," Dudley spoke up quickly, which completely shut down any retort or argument from either of his parents, "just tell us what to do."

Harry smiled at the bold trust that his cousin gave him now. The boy had grown quite a bit since the last time Harry had interacted with him, nearly two summers previously. From within his robes, Harry pulled out the toy car that he had enchanted to be a portkey to a remote countryside in France. "This will take you all out of the country, there will be a car waiting for you will money enough to start a new life in France or wherever else you wish to go. From there it's all up to you, just don't return to Britain unless we send word, and then only if you really want to."

"Thank you Harry," Dudley said as he held out a hand for the car. "Dudley!" Petunia said, frightened, but he turned on her, "Mum, stop. They are not going to hurt us just because of who they are, and I'm going with or without either of you."

Vernon, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout this, spoke up, "Pet, I think they have us beat. We should go, just so that our family is not torn apart. I don't want to as much as you, but if even a part of what they have to say are true, do we really risk it?"

"I…but…we…" Petunia stammered, confused at the sudden change of heart from her normally stubborn husband. Even Harry was surprised at the abrupt turnaround from his uncle. "Fine," Petunia said at last, defeated, "We'll go…"

"Good," Faykan said, and he quickly began instructing them on how to activate the Portkey, as well as how much of their things they could bring with them. Meanwhile, Harry began to walk the house, slowly placing sensory charms and other surveillance spells to warn them immediately when the house was attacked.

Since the creation of his staff, Harry found that there was far more options with magic available to him, including spells that he knew had incantations and wand movements, but that he could cast with a simple thought. Recalling the more recent prophecy he speculated for a moment that this, unrestrained access to magical knowledge might have been the ' _power that the Dark Lord would envy above all else_ ,' yet it was not the ' _power he knows not of_.'

That seemingly was a bad thing, yet Harry understood it as a blessing in disguise. Simply because Voldemort would envy the power of an Istari, which definitely didn't mean that he would ever possess it. It was plainly just something that he could understand, as opposed to the other power, one that even Harry was not aware of yet. Didn't Dumbledore think it was Harry's ability to love?

As Harry paused outside the room that was for a short time his bedroom on the second floor he pondered the possibility that love was the great mysterious power. It was love for his friends that allowed Harry to keep on fighting, even when he had thought that Faykan was gone and that the wizarding world was closing in around him. If one changed the definition of power from its usual meaning, and replaced it with more of a motivating force, then it applied instantly. Leave it to Dumbledore to find the most shrouded meaning possible and stick to it.

Harry chucked slightly as he entered the smallest bedroom, but he stopped when he saw that it had not been reverted to Dudley's storage space for excess toys and junk. Everything had been left exactly as it had been when he departed two years ago.

"I… I made them leave it alone while you were gone…" Dudley said, appearing in the doorway behind him. "I hoped you might come back… at least one more time."

Harry smiled, awed and impressed at the nearly insane amount of change his cousin had gone through. From schoolyard bully to legitimately good natured. "I… thank you Dudley, but there's really nothing left for me here…"

"Yeah…" Dudley said, looking around at the mostly empty room. "So, you're fighting him, that evil guy Lord Voldiwart or something?"

Harry stifled a laugh at the spin on the Dark Lord's name, but nodded, "Yes, it's part of a long story, but basically I'm the only one who can beat him. Only then can the world start to repair the damage he caused."

Dudley seemed to think about it for a few moments, and during that time Faykan arrived, "I've shrunken and packed the majority of your room, Dudley, it's almost time for you and your family to go. If you want to check once more to see if I forgot anything, now is the time."

"Alright," Dudley said calmly, still watching Harry.

"Take care of yourself Big D." Harry said.

"You've changed since I last saw you," Dudley said observantly, "you look far… older… than two years ago…"

"I feel a lot older," Harry laughed, "You've grown up a lot as well."

"Be safe Harry," Dudley said quietly, before taking the rucksack that Faykan was holding, and without a backward glance, he descended the stairs.

"Good kid, your cousin," Faykan commented idly as the sound of the portkey activating echoed from below. "Personally I'm just surprised how well they took all this, given who they are…" Harry replied.

"Oh, well, there may have been a bit to do with that…" Faykan said sheepishly, looking highly guilty. "Nothing permanent, unfortunately, but just enough to actually get them to leave on the spot, but still, Dudley was perfectly genuine. I only had to charm his parents into following what he decided."

"So, now that they're safe, what do we do with the house?" Harry asked, gesturing around them with his staff.

"You set up the surveillance charms?" Faykan asked, to which Harry nodded in reply. "Good, I had a few traps that I thought would be good, nothing too destructive mind, just something that'll send any Death Eaters that come inside packing with their tails between their legs."

Harry grinned at Faykan's humor as they set to work inscribing runes and throwing up subtlety wards.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco paid very close attention to Harry since the strange ritual where he and Faykan constructed a staff. He didn't know completely what was going on, but it seemed, while not off or wrong, just strange. It could be the time around Faykan, but it seemed that the boy's personality was rubbing off on Harry. Both were becoming rather secretive on certain topics, albeit private topics that Draco wasn't willing to push, but still quite mysterious nonetheless.

Chief among these strange happenings was the pairs little disappearance after the Council meeting nearly two weeks prior. They had been gone for several hours, and spoke about nothing that occurred when they returned. It seemed that something was being planned behind the scenes, but Draco was not currently privy to the details.

Currently, Draco was sitting on the roof of Orthanc, watching the pair of wizards as they went through several training maneuvers of staff combat, combining spellcasting as well as sword strikes alongside the powerful magical foci.

Hermione climbed the nearby stairs, having only emerged from her room, and Ron's company, a few days previously. She was also being very tight-lipped about some personal things, but Draco was even less desirous to engage that potential danger.

"Are they still at it?" she asked neutrally, and he nodded in response.

"Haven't stopped all morning," Draco added as Hermione sat alongside him to watch. Together he and Hermione had been observing the pair's interaction to try and understand what changes had occurred in Harry, and what the causes could be. It was hard to place, but there seemed to be some growing magical similarities along with personality changes.

It was strange to see at times, such as when Faykan would be discussing something with them, and Harry would chime in as though he and Faykan were thinking literally the same thought.

"I wonder what could…" Hermione began, but she was cut off by a flash of fire, and Fawkes appeared over Harry and Faykan, who stopped instantly to watch the brilliant orange bird drop a scrap of parchment and disappear again. Harry snatched the fluttering scrap out of the air in his free hand and perused it quickly, before grinning at Faykan.

"Wonder what this is about," Draco commented. He thought he was quite enough to not be overheard, but apparently not so, as the pair of wizards turned to him and Hermione.

"Ah, don't be so hasty about that Draco," Faykan said cheekily, "this news would be of most import to you, Miss Granger, and indeed all our allies. Why don't we bring those who this information would primarily concern to the main room and share this, and indeed quite a bit of what will happen right shortly."

"Yes," Harry agreed, raising his staff and summon a Patronus wordlessly, "Moody and the whole crowd," he told the stag, which charged off into the sky.

"Come, we can explain some of it on the way," Faykan said to Draco and Hermione as they turned toward the stairs.

"The message was actually rather straight forward," Harry explained as he joined them in their precession down the stairs, "Severus was informing us that the attack on the Dursleys' house will be in two days, at night, nearly a week before the Order was presumed to be removing me to their safe house."

"Where was this safe house supposed to be?" Hermione asked.

"The Burrow; which we will actually be spending some time at, for token appearances as well as a favor for Mrs. Weasley. They want extra security for Bill and Fleur's wedding." Faykan answered.

"We hope when Voldemort springs his supposed attack on my relatives, who are long gone by now, that we can counter attack and wipe out more of his Death Eater and wizard forces. Clearing out orcs is well and good, but they aren't the most versatile of his tools. If we could eliminate, for instance Lucius or Yaxley," Draco winced slightly, but refused to comment, "We could greatly hinder their political influence on top of removing their more powerful casters."

"But for that, you need to flush them out," Draco deducted, "which means enlisting the Order's help."

"Correct in one," Faykan said as they arrived on the ground floor.

As they entered the main atrium, they found several of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix already appearing, as well as a few of the dignitaries milling about. The centaur, Firenze, approached their group on sight. "Lord Alatar, it is good that you have arrived when you did. I bring word from the school and the forest nearby."

That caught all their interest, "Speak Firenze," Faykan said instantly, his blue eyes sharpening in the torchlight.

"Dark creatures are abroad, Dementors and orcs and all manner of vile things, slowly surrounding the school on all sides. It seems that the evil one is preparing to make his control of the school absolute." The centaur explained quickly.

"Voldemort won't make a move against the people of Britain by slaughtering their children," Harry reasoned, "He'll want to keep them at the school as hostages to prevent anything from not going the way he wants. We will have to liberate the school before the end. I trust we can have your support in watching for an opening to retake the school and free the students?"

"Of course, Lord _Calenrohtar_ ," Firenze said, bowing slightly before turning to depart.

Draco was confused. Lord… what? Since when did Harry have a title in elvish from the creatures of the forest? He was about to voice this question, when Alastor stomped his way to the front, "You'd best have a good reason for breaking silence and summoning us all here from our positions," he said gruffly, "not long before someone notices that we've all up and vanished, and it won't be too hard to put two and two together for old Voldie…"

"This will be a simple matter to address Alastor," Faykan said, urging the old Auror to peace. "We just need to relay an abrupt acceleration of our plans, and a small change."

"Changes in plans lead to people being killed," Moody growled, clearly irked at a seeming child dictating strategy to him.

"Nevertheless, plans have changed, and we must adjust accordingly if we are to intercept Voldemort's next move."

"Don't say the name!" Moody barked, "Their lot have reestablished the taboo on it; saying the name causes them to know where you are and weakens ward around you."

Faykan scoffed, "We are under Fidelius, there is no magic that he has that can reach us here."

"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you, boy."Moody retorted. "Why Dumbledore left you in charge of the Order I have no idea, but I will do what it takes to make sure that whatever hair brained schemes you make will not cost unnecessary lives!"

Faykan just looked at Moody with a quiet smirk, "Well, I am glad then to have someone Albus trusted so much looking over my shoulder then..."

That seemed to be enough to deflate the scarred Auror, and Faykan quickly conveyed the change of plans, including the counter attack over Harry's Muggle relative's old home that would occur far ahead of the expected timetable.

"I only need the very best of our fliers and duelists," Faykan said, "as you said, no need for unnecessary deaths."

Alastor apparently could find no fault with the plan, as he offered no rebuke to its design, and hastily stomped off to make the arrangements with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Well, now what do we do?" Hermione asked as Moody departed, and the others returned to their previous conversation.

"Now, we wait... and prepare," Harry said.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix smiled gleefully as she soared through the night sky above the boring and oblivious Muggles as they cowered in their houses. These foolish swine of the human race had no idea of the power that waiting to clean the world of their filth. But the Dark Lord had given her strict instructions that there would only be three deaths of the most unworthy of blood. It did bother Bellatrix somewhat that they seemed to kill more witches and wizards than Muggles, but in the long run that would all change. There needed to be only a few more key deaths, and hopefully this night would accomplish them.

Potter's Muggle relatives would be the perfect bait for the boy and his Istari ally to come to their own deaths. Barely retraining the cackle that threatened to pierce the night, Belltraix lead her squad of six mid ranked Death Eaters down toward the targeted house. Lucius, as well as Macnair were leading their own groups on the house, hoping to prevent any escape that the filth attempted.

The lights of the dwelling were out when the twenty some odd Death Eaters landed around the premises, and the three leaders threw powerful wards up that would prevent entrance and exit by any who did not bear the mark of their Lord. All things prepared, Macnair took four of the lower Death Eaters, and made their way inside, blasting the feeble wooden door off its hinges and storming the house.

Bellatrix felt her elation of a plan well executed fade away quickly when the shouts and laughter of the group invading the dwelling turned to screams of pain and death as several powerful magical traps were set off. Blasts rocked the group beneath them as the house all but collapsed upon itself. The Dark Lords right hand knew that those inside had all perished, and that they had been tricked.

"They are not here," she hissed at Lucius, "we have been betrayed!"

"What would you have us do," he shot back, "retreat to the Dark Lord with our tails between out legs, ready for his punishment?"

Bellatrix lost her angry retort as their wards around them shattered. " _sul ngwawa ar' niire!_ " bellowed a voice above them. Bellatrix whirled as a mighty gust of razor sharp wind tore through the assembled Death Eaters, slashing robes and causing blood to fly from wounds that were gouged through those on the outermost edges.

Above them, Bellatrix spotted a host of fliers speeding toward them, lead by none other than the vivid blue form of Alatar, who's body was shining in the darkness. What did surprise Bella though was the emerald green projectile that was speeding along beside the ancient wizard.

She had seen and heard more after the fact about how Potter's magic had unleashed itself to a Lord-like state the night of Dumbledore's death, but she hadn't expected that the boy would become greater than even Dumbledore's threat had been to her Master.

"Get to your brooms!" she cried, and around her the others scrambled to mount and launch upward to meet the oncoming foes. Before a single Death Eater could take to the sky, three more were cut down by spell from those swooping overhead.

Bellatrix rocketed into the sky; wand drawn and snapping out curses at the Order members that had dared to ambush her. Two were knocked from the air, but even as they fell they vanished with the blue light of Portkeys.

This infuriated the witch even further, however she could do nothing about it, as within seconds both Potter and Alatar were on her tail, blasts and bolts of light flying over Bella's shoulders as she twisted and weaved out of the way.

Off to her left, Lucius was tangling with Moody and two other wizards she didn't bother recognizing, and the three on one battle was not boding well for her blond brother-in-law. Screeching in rage, Bellatrix swerved, dodging around the two staff wielders, and barreled toward Moody, easily the strongest fighter outside the two boys chasing her.

"Avada Kedavera!" The curse came easily to her lips, and Moody was force to spin out of the way, the deadly green curse launching off into the night. Bellatrix snarled at the scarred man, but was once again on the defensive as the two incredibly powerful wizards caught up to her, staffs blazing with unrestrained magic.

All around her, Death Eaters were falling from enemy spells or disapparating away to safety. Lucius yelled something unintelligible to her as he too vanished. Roaring her frustration at her mission going so wrong, Belle took aim at the nearest hostile and fired another Killing Curse. There was a scream, satisfying explosion as something connected with the spell, and Bellatrix turned midair, squeezing through space back to her Master's side.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione paced worriedly as she waited for the ambush team to return from Surrey. It was nerve wracking just thinking that all her friends were out there fighting the Death Eaters without her. But it was the most logical choice; Hermione was next to useless on a broom, and they wanted a quick surgical strike and then to retreat just as quickly.

But still, it was dreadful, just waiting with no word whatsoever. Hermione wandered the tower to try and alleviate the stress, but it did very little. The few people she encountered tended to keep to themselves, so she didn't even have conversation to hold her attention.

That was, at least until people from the team started Portkeying in by the ones and twos, many of the having minor to moderate wounds on them. Unfortunately this only heightened her worry, as the survivors only had tales of Death Eater brutality, and flying spells that they narrowly avoided.

Several tense minutes later of assisting the wounded and hearing smatterings of the story, the rest of the group arrived in a swirl of Portkey magic. Relieved, Hermione saw that Faykan, Ron, Draco and Harry were all safe and sound. But still, there was a body that the group of returning warriors was carrying. Hermione couldn't make out the face as they passed, but Alastor Moody was stomping along behind, and he was far easier to waylay for questions.

"Who…?" Hermione asked breathlessly, and Moody's magical eye shifted to her for a split second as he plodded along, "Kingsley…" he grunted, not pausing to answer anything further.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Voldemort was oddly not displeased with the results of Bellatrix's mission. Despite losing nearly ten of his followers, including the useful Walden Macnair, and the trap that had clearly been set and sprung on his forces, he had learned some important information. Potter had gained definite power, and from Bellatrix's description he seemed to have become like Alatar, which did not bode well for the future of his war.

Also, there was a spy in his ranks, feeding information to his enemies, and the Dark Lord would stop at nothing to root the person out. The witch or wizard who dared to betray the Lord of the Earth would regret the day they had been born.

Voldemort had his suspicions of who the traitor could have been, but there were several avenues that needed to be explored to confirm his suspicions, including the inner workings of the Ministry. The Unspeakables were being surprisingly tightlipped to any of attempts to infiltrate and get information from.

Voldemort felt that the scholarly types must have been on the side of his enemies, which would be just another loose end to tie up when the Ministry was his, which would be soon.

Thickness had spread the Imperius Curse to several other of the Department Heads in the Ministry, slowly drawing a net around Scrimgeour, and in less than month, the man would be dead, and the Dark Lord's puppet in his place. Once that was accomplished, then order could be set in place to remove Mudbloods and blood traitors from any semblance of power, allowing the purebloods to finally take control.

Meanwhile, his forces would move on to hunt down Potter and his allies wherever they would run. Their deaths were required to pave the way to his larger conquest, beginning with continental Europe, then the world.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry was deeply saddened by Kingsley's death during the ambush over Privet Drive, but they had all known the risks, and there was little that could be done but to remember the experienced Auror and trusted Order member, as well as make sure that his murderer, Bellatrix LeStrange, was taken down for good.

The mad witch was quickly establishing her reputation as the most dangerous of Voldemort's supporters, even with the massive additions to his ranks over the last two years. Killing her became a high priority for their forces, next to defeating the Dark Lord himself.

Sadly for the Order, Kingsley was their biggest asset inside the Ministry, beings one of the lead Aurors, and Moody was very quick to show his displeasure with Faykan over the matter. The Istari took the scarred wizard's wrath in stride, continuing to organize their next few moves.

For starters, they; himself, Faykan, Ron, Hermione and Draco, were going to the Burrow to act as added security for the wedding that would happen just days after Harry's seventeenth birthday. A small party was also probably being prepared for him, but Harry didn't mind. There was a downside however to going to the Burrow; Mrs. Weasley herself. The woman was a wonderful person, but she was slightly on the overly motherly side at times, and if she caught wind that they were all going to drop out of Hogwarts to pursue the Horcruxes, she would most definitely not be pleased about it.

But with luck, Mrs. Weasley would remain in the dark until September the first, at which time the five of them would slip off back to Orthanc to prepare for their hunt. With only the initials R.A.B. and a list of possible items as their clues, there was much left to be desire in the way of direction.

When they finally Portkeyed over to the Burrow, it was well near evening, but the welcome was more than warm. Mrs. Weasley was more than prepared for five additional guests, and had them all seated with heaping plates in front of them before any could protest about being too much of a burden.

"Nonsense," she said, waving them away, even as she bustled off to clean the dishes of those who were finished. In addition to the rest of the Weasley family, Fleur, Tonk and Lupin were in attendance.

For the most part the meal went smoothly, with nothing awkward asked or discussed. Most of those at the table were still muted from the loss of Kingsley. But, inevitably, the discussion turned to the upcoming Hogwarts term.

"So, Harry, what N.E.W.T.s are you hoping to get?" Lupin asked cordially.

"Well…" Harry hesitated, not wanting to lie, but also uneasy of spilling their secret so soon into the time they would be at the Burrow.

"Remus," Faykan started, but Harry cut him off with a raised hand. He was more than capable of explaining the situation.

"The truth is," Harry started, grimacing as all attention turned to him, "I, well us five, we aren't going back to Hogwarts this year…"

There were a few sharp intakes of breath, and Mr. Weasley looked heavily concerned. "May I ask why?" he said neutrally.

"Well, several reasons really. Most importantly, Dumbledore left us a specific and highly important task to complete; Moody knows more of the details, so you can ask him about it…" Mrs. Weasley looked like she wanted to intervene at that point, but her husband held her arm to cause her to wait.

"Also, I really don't think it's a good idea for me, or anyone immensely close to me to be in a place where they could be so easily attacked. I mean, look at the facts, six years at Hogwarts and not one of them were remotely safe with Dumbledore present. I shudder to think how bad it would be without him there." Harry reasoned.

That seemed to have more of an effect on the parents and teachers in the room. "I… I suppose that does make a lot of sense," Mrs. Weasley said slowly, still somewhat unconvinced, but at least considering the danger. "But you will stay for the wedding at least, we could really use the help."

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley, we wouldn't miss it for anything." Harry assured her.

"So sweet of you," she replied, wiping a small tear from her face and smiling as she levitated their empty plates and left for the kitchen.

Harry felt sure that their plans had been okayed despite the underlying protests from the Weasley parents, and hopefully there would be little resistance when the time finally came after the wedding.

 _Taur leuthil ar' quesse en' naur auta vee' er tehta en' poldora ar' val : wood, gem and wand of light be as one, a sign of strength and power_

 _Calenrohtar : Green Warrior_

 _sul ngwawa ar' niire : Winds howl and tear!_


	4. Chapter 3

**Ah, another wonderful Tuesday evening, which means another wonderful chapter for all to read! Not much for us to discuss here, so why not plunge right on in, and don't forget to leave your thoughts in the form of a review. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter Three**

 **Departure**

Hermione wasn't remotely surprised to find that Mrs. Weasley made every effort to keep the five of them separated and busy with preparations for the wedding so that they had little to no time to speak with each other. They all saw the tactic for what it was, a mother's desperate bid to keep those she cared about close.

Even still, they pretended to not notice her attempts to waylay them from their important preparations, and nightly Hermione would sneak up to Ron's room, where the four boys were staying, and they would discuss where to start searching for Horcruxes.

They still lacked any leads of which to speak, so most of the time they simply mused where the remaining three were hidden. It was obvious that the snake would always be close to Voldemort, and with the cup and mysterious other items Merlin-knew-where, they're only lead to follow was the locket that Harry, Faykan and Dumbledore had found in the cave.

Faykan absently levitated the fake locket in the air, and they all watched it slowly turning in the dim light. "We know," Harry started, "that the real locket was in Sirius' house, we saw it when we were cleaning out the dark artifacts."

"But," Hermione spoke up, "doesn't that mean that its gone, thrown out with the rest?"

"Not necessarily," Faykan countered. "Kreacher liberated many of the Black artifacts from Sirius' attempts over that summer, and it's very likely that he now has the locket…"

Harry looked thoughtful for a second, "I have a strong feeling that Kreacher will be very important to us, before the end…"

Hermione looked at the boy for a moment. It was obvious that Kreacher would be important right shortly, as he was their next step toward finding the locket, but that didn't seem to be what Harry had meant.

"So, Grimmauld Place will be our first stop…" Ron surmised, to which Harry and Faykan both nodded. "Between that and Orthanc, we will have our work cut out for us." Draco said flatly, and Hermione had to agree. There was quite a bit to manage if they were to be leading the fight openly as well as secretly searching for the Horcruxes.

"There may be times that we split up to cover more than one objective, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it." Faykan said with a shrug.

"Any word out of the Ministry?" Hermione asked Faykan, her mind spinning to a new topic.

The boy shrugged again, "Nothing much out of the ordinary. Bode reports that the Death Eaters have tried many times to get informants into the Unspeakables, but thus far they've been rebuffed. It won't be long before more agrressive moves are made, probably toward the Minister's office or other departments that can exercise authority over the Department of Mysteries."

"What I'd like to know," Ron said, sitting up on his bed, "is how we're supposed to destroy these things once we've got them?"

"An excellent question," Hermione agreed, turning to Faykan. She was surprised, as well as Ron and Draco, when it was Harry that answered.

"There's only a small handful of things that will destroy a Horcrux, each rarer than the next. Easiest to use would be fiendfyre, but the spell is very dark, and even more dangerous to attempt to control. After that would be Basilisk venom, which if we had access to Hogwarts would be easy to get, from the Chamber of Secrets, but that option is not available at the moment. There are several complex rituals and spells that affect them, but they are well beyond our ability to successfully complete, especially because of potions that have to be prepared for months beforehand."

Hermione just stared at Harry in surprise. "What?" he said, looking back at her.

"Since when did you learn so much Harry?" Ron said bluntly.

"Oh…well…erm…" he stammered, flushing slightly. "I've made it my business to know everything about what it takes to win this war, including some more… exclusive… information."

Ron smiled as he laid back down on his bed, but Hermione was less satisfied. "I'd like to see some of the books you're reading Harry, just for my own curiosity."

"You'd be hard pressed to read them, Hermione," Faykan interjected quickly. "They're written in the ancient high elven language, _Quenya_."

Hermione was confused. There were two elvish languages? "Is that like _Sindaren_ , surely it couldn't be much different…"

Faykan just chuckled. "It may be somewhat similar, form wise, but the writing is vastly different, dear Hermione. With the grasp of _Sindaren_ that you have, it would still take many months, if not years, to learn basic _Quenya_ , let alone comprehend it to effectively read."

"But…" Hermione said, glancing at Harry. She was more than certain that the boy hadn't known about this second elven language for much longer than she had. "Then how…"

"That's neither here nor there," Faykan said, gently cutting her off. "Do we have everything gathered to leave if Death Eaters come calling?"

Hermione frowned as the conversation continued past without further reference to Harry's spontaneous knowledge. There was something odd going on, and Hermione wasn't sure that she liked the artful dodging that both Harry and Faykan were going through about it.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco was more than pleased to be able to spend this time at the Weasleys. Not only were they in the thick of things, with information coming and going through all Mr. Weasley's Ministry connections, but he had ample time to spend with Ginny, that is he would, if Mrs. Weasley wasn't so keen on keeping himself, Ron, Harry, Faykan, and Hermione so occupied that they could do little else but breathe and prepare for the wedding in a few days time.

Everything was nearly ready by the time Fleur's family arrived, and both Ron and Hermione had expected Mrs. Weasley to run out of things to have them do, but somehow the woman still managed to keep them hopping about for this or that project. No one was willing to sour the atmosphere by calling her out however, so they cheerfully submitted to the work by day, and continued planning by night.

They awoke early on the morning of Harry's seventeenth birthday, and together Draco, Ron and Faykan proceeded to startle the black haired boy awake with flashes and bangs from their wands, together with loud and intentionally bad singing of 'Happy Birthday!'

When they finally dragged themselves downstairs, Harry's eyes widened at the pile of presents waiting on the table. Draco plopped down next to Harry at the table, as Mrs. Weasley started serving them, talking to Harry specifically and urging him to begin opening his presents.

Draco tried not to think of the birthdays he had missed with his own family due to the war, especially his own seventeenth birthday, but the first present Harry opened was a traditional pocket watch, engraved with stars circling the face. Mrs. Weasley was mentioning that the watch had previous belonged to her brother, and while Harry got up to hug her, Ginny appeared, sitting on Draco's other side and stealthily taking his hand under the table.

They hadn't had much time to speak of the upcoming events, but Ginny knew. She was such a bright girl Draco couldn't believe half the things she had already figured out without any of them telling her. She knew they were all planning on leaving immediately after the wedding, and that she was unlikely to see Draco, or any of the others, for quite a while, until Voldemort was defeated or they were all dead. Draco could tell it terrified her to possibly not see him again, but she was brave about it, and never showed her fear.

The majority of Harry's remaining presents were more of a mundane variety, a magical shaver from Bill and Fleur, chocolates from Fleur's parents, a pocket Sneakoscope from Hermione. Ron and Draco had worked together to secretly put together a collection of wizarding pictures of them at school. The majority of the pictures had been supplied most cheerfully by Colin and Dennis Creevey.

Faykan had not made or purchased a gift, but instead whispered something to Harry that made the boy's eyes flash with wonder and excitement, and refused to say more to any others of their group except 'you will see when the time is right.'

Draco had a suspicion that it was some destination that Faykan was planning on taking Harry to, possible with the rest of them after they departed the Weasleys in the next few days.

That evening found them all, plus Remus Lupin, Hagrid and Tonks, out on the lawn for Harry's birthday dinner, the kitchen having been proved too small for their number on a normal day. Several tables had been laid out end to end near the garden, and Fred and George, who each had been sporting several nasty wounds from the battle over Privet Drive, were bewitching purple lanterns to hang in midair over them all, shining the golden number seventeen over the guests.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" Mrs. Weasley sang as she came through the gate, levitating a giant, round Snitch in front of her. Draco laughed when the massive cake settled down in front of Harry.

"That looks amazing, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said graciously.

Around seven o'clock the guests arrived. Lupin and Tonks, each looking somewhat odd in their polar expressions; Tonks radiant while Lupin looked somewhat unhappy, smiled warmly as they greeted everyone, and Hagrid, the massive man booming his congratulations as he lifted Harry bodily from the ground, looking as though he might squeeze the boy to death with how hard he was hugging him.

As they talked and wait, Draco glanced occasionally toward Ginny, who was near Mrs. Weasley. They both looked somewhat worried. It was rather unusual for them both to be secretive about something, but soon they returned to the group, and Mrs. Weasley kept casting glances back at the gate. "I think we'd better start without Arthur," she called to them after a moment or two. "He must have been held up at… oh!"

A streak of light came toward them, flying across the yard and onto the table, where it formed into a bright silver weasel standing on its hind legs. "Minister of Magic coming with me," it said in Mr. Weasley's voice.

The Patronus dissolved into thin air after delivering its message, leaving several of them astonished at the message.

"We shouldn't be here," Lupin said at once, "Harry… I'm sorry, but I'll explain another time…" and he seized his wife's wrist and pulled her away gently. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.

"The Minister, but why? I don't understand…" she said absently. But there was no time to discuss the matter; a second later, Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour. Beside him, Draco noticed both Harry and Faykan stiffen instantly.

The two newcomers marched across the yard toward the garden and lantern-lit table where everybody sat. As Scrimgeour approached, Draco nodded in approval as the man's face showed some genuine apology. "So sorry to intrude," he said as he limped to a halt before the table, "especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party."

Momentarily his eyes flickered Snitch cake, "Many happy returned," he said blandly.

"Thanks," Harry replied in equal neutrality.

"I require a private word with you," the Minister continued, glancing over the rest of the crowd as he spoke to Harry. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. Draco Black, and Mr. Will Stanton."

"Us?" Ron said surprised. "Why us?"

"I will gladly tell you when we are somewhere more private," Scrimgeour replied. "Is there such a place?" he added, turning to Mr. Weasley.

Draco noticed that his best friend's father looked very nervous, "Yes, of course," Mr. Weasley said. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You mat lead the way," Scrimgeour said, indicating Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

As the five of them were led back to the house in silence, Draco caught the Weasley parents exchanging a worried glance. As they entered, Harry lit the oil lamps, illuminating the cozy room. Scrimgeour sat himself in Mr. Weasley's armchair, while Draco, Ron and Hermione squeezed side by side onto the sofa. Harry and Faykan remained standing, their eyes seeming to glow slightly in the dim light.

"I have some questions for the five of you, and I think it would be best if we did it individually. If you four would…" Scrimgeour began, but Harry but him off.

"Unacceptable, Minister. What you ask or say to one you can ask or say to us all, or not at all."

"Very well then," Scrimgeour said, shrugging slightly after a moment's pause. He cleared his throat. "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will."

Draco exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione. Harry and Faykan however did not react.

"A surprise, apparently," Scrimgeour surmised, reading their faces, "You were not aware then, that Dumbledore left you anything?"

"A…all of us?" Ron asked, "I would've thought…"

Faykan interrupted this time, "Dumbledore died over a month ago. You're only now getting around to enacting his will?"

Scrimgeour lowered his voice conspiratorially, "If it weren't for my interference, you lot wouldn't have seen these items at all."

Instantly they all quieted and paid close attention as the Minister pulled a scroll of parchment and a small drawstring pouch out of his cloak. "The noose around the Ministry it tightening," he said slowly, "I know that our mutual enemies are closing in on me. If Dumbledore had anything that could help you, I would be damned if I didn't do what I could to get them into your hands."

Opening the scroll, he read, "' _The last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore'_ … yes, here we are… ' _To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it._ '"

From the bag, Scrimgeour removed a rectangular silver object, and handed it quickly over to Ron. "That is a valuable object, and quite likely unique. Certainly it is Dumbledore's own design."

"But, why give it to me?" Ron asked, puzzled. Scrimgeour watched him for a moment, "It may prove most useful. I had tested it only once, as part of my taking the items to deliver to you all, and it can remove and replace lights from any source, magical or muggle, without leaving any trace. Use it well I think would be the appropriate thing to say."

"Thank you," Ron mumbled, looking at the Deluminator in his hands.

Scrimgeour returned to the parchment, "' _To Miss Hermione Granger, I leave my copy of_ The Tales of Beedle the Bard _, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive._ '"

From the bag, Scrimgeour pulled a small tattered book and handed it to Hermione. "Aside from being to perfectly normal copy, there may be some secret message or code hidden within that an outsider wouldn't see. At least I hope that this is the case."

Hermione went to open the book, but Scrimgeour stopped her, "Not yet, check it when I am gone. If our mutual enemies' servants capture me before the end, I don't want to have anything worth telling them."

Without pausing, Scrimgeour returned to the scroll, "' _To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill._ '"

The tiny golden ball fluttered its silver wings feebly as Scrimgeour removed it. Harry reached forward and took the ball from him, and Scrimgeour looked hesitant for a second before relinquishing it. "Snitches have flesh memory, and are small enough to hide tiny object inside, so there may be something in there…"

When nothing happened, his face fell, "Perhaps not…"

Draco frowned, recalling the day that Harry caught the Snitch in their first year. Didn't he nearly swallow it? Then the realization struck; Harry was purposefully allowing Scrimgeour to be disappointed to protect the man, in the case of Dumbledore actually secreting anything within the Snitch.

Turning back to his scroll, Scrimgeour continued, "' _To Draco Abraxas Black, I leave a goblin-made scabbard, specially commissioned for his use, in the hope that he remembers where true nobility is derived._ '"

From the bag came a shimmering leather scabbard, embossed with gold and silver. Draco's eyes widened as the Minister presented the fine object to him. The seal of the White Tree glittered in the oil light, and he could sense the protective goblin magic woven within.

"I…" Draco started, but he choked up on his own words. Professor Dumbledore always seemed to be more concerned with either Faykan or Harry, but never him. To see this gift, an open accepting and backing of his heirship to the line of kings meant a great deal to the blond wizard.

Scrimgeour said nothing, rather simply studying Draco's reaction, before turning back to the parchment one final time. "' _To Will Stanton, there is nothing of material possession I can leave of value, merely these words of warning. Sometimes we must let go of those things we fear the most to lose._ '"

Faykan frowned, and Scrimgeour looked at him, searching for meaning in the Istari's face. "I take it that those words have some meaning to you?" he pressed after several moments of silence.

"It's like you said Minister," Faykan replied, "the less you know, the safer we are. But for your own comfort I will say that you have rendered us all a great service."

Scrimgeour nodded once, and very slowly stood. Draco watched as the man seemed to hesitate before stowing away the will and bag. As he took up his walking stick, Harry spoke, "You're still determined to pursue the course you've set yourself upon Minister?"

Scrimgeour paused, looking highly tempted. After a long time, he turned toward the door, "As much as I may now regret it, Mr. Potter, I am." Walking to the door, the Minister of Magic paused again. "Whatever your plans are to destroy the heir of Slytherin, those loyal to the Ministry and the rights of free people everywhere are with you. I am sorry that I may not live to see it fulfilled, but… I do wish you all the luck you need."

As the man departed, Draco felt a small ripple of respect for the Scrimgeour blossom. The man was nowhere near the corrupt Fudge, but a formidable man in his own right, who had inherited a terrible situation, and yet managed to do what he could with it. And that was something worth remembering.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry was quiet for the remainder of his birthday, pondering the actions of Scrimgeour toward them in bringing Dumbledore's will. While he couldn't completely agree with how Scrimgeour had performed as Minister, he had no place in his heart to dislike the man personally.

It had taken mere moments for him to understand the riddle of the Snitch, albeit the engraved riddle written upon it, ' _I open at the close_ ,' was more mysterious. Faykan proved to be little help in deciphering whatever Dumbledore was referring to, and they eventually agreed to leave the mystery of the snitch to a later time.

As the time of the wedding approached, Harry had disguised himself by magic as a fictional Weasley relative by transfiguring parts of himself to have random prominent features from their family. Thus masquerading as 'Cousin Barney' the entire group felt confident that Harry would be more than able to pass unnoticed by any of the guests.

While Draco, Hermione and Ron were assisting Fred George and Ginny with seating arrangements and catering to the arriving guests, Harry and Faykan were casually walking the parameter, subtly casting protective wards around the entity of the wedding pavilion. Sadly, they were greatly restricted on what spells they could cast, as not only were the more powerful of ward demanding of special materials or great length of casting, but the Ministry, or the parts already full succumbed to Voldemort, were cracking down on 'illegal' magic, and would be alerted.

This had the added effect of allowing the two powerful wizards time to speak undisturbed by Mrs. Weasley or anyone else. "What I don't understand," Harry initially asked, as they started their walk, and Faykan muttered subtle spells in a mix of Latin and _Sindaren_ , "is how could I be expected to be an Istari… I mean, I don't know the first thing to do…"

Faykan only chuckled. "Oh Harry," he said, smiling, "do you honestly think that the Valar make mistakes like that? There will be time and to spare for you to learn what you need to fight this evil, and whatever else may come to threaten _Arda_."

"But when?" Harry complained, hanging his head in exasperation, "when are we supposed to fit lessons like _that_ in the middle of a war?"

"Soon Harry, I promise, it will be one of the highest priorities right after seeking the Horcruxes…" Faykan assured him. Harry was about to press further, when movement from the tent caught his eye. Lupin and Tonks had arrived, and were waving as they approached the pair of them.

"Wotcher," Tonks said happily, shaking her now blond hair out of her face. "Arthur told us you were the one with the curly hair." She added, toying with one of Harry's transfigured locks and giggling to herself.

"Sorry about last night," Lupin added in a whisper, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "The Ministry's being very anti-werewolf at the moment and we thought our presence might not do you any favors."

"It's fine, I understand," Harry said, "But you'd didn't have to worry. Scrimgeour was there to help in what way he could, not truly representing the Ministry."

"Ah," Lupin said, raising his eyebrows, "well, better safe than sorry I guess…"

As the pair turned to leave, Harry saw Lupin's face fall immediately into lines of misery. He wasn't sure why the man was so down, but Lupin was a grown man, and didn't need Harry worrying about him and his personal issues. Harry knew that even in his own mind it sounded callous, but he really had far more impactful things to be concerned about.

None of the other guests recognized him, and as Faykan was disguised as the ambiguous Will Stanton, no one paid them any mind throughout the duration of the wedding. It was nice; short, simply and directly to the point. Harry couldn't help but feel happy for the Weasley and Delacour families. Sitting toward the rear of the company as Fleur proceeded up the aisle, Harry felt that he understood what they were fighting for all the more.

Not even being seated near the coarse and rather rude Aunt Muriel was able to disturb his thoughts, as Harry admired the simple beauty of life around him. Was it worth all the toil and heartache that went with fighting Voldemort? Absolutely.

Once the wedding ceremony was concluded, Bill and Fleur were showered in silver stars, as high above them all the golden balloons burst to reveal birds of paradise and golden bells, adding their sounds to the applause of the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" called the tufty-haired wizard that conducted the ceremony. "If you would all please stand!"

They did so, and with a small wave of the man's wand, the rows of seats removed themselves, as the walls of the wedding tent vanished, leaving them standing under a canopy supported by golden poles, with a splendid view of the sunlit orchards and the surrounding countryside.

The reception was, different. Harry, who along with Faykan, and Draco had been somewhat removed from wizarding news for the earliest part of the summer, were shocked to hear about Rite Skeeter's newest piece of filth, a book she had written about the life of Professor Dumbledore, in which dragged all of the man's deeper family secrets out into the air for all to see and ridicule.

Knowing what he did about the man, his mistakes and his constant desire to do what was right, Harry was outraged. It seemed like his O.W.L. year all over again, with the news doing everything in its power to tarnish any memory of the great wizard, and somehow he had a sinking suspicion that Voldemort lurked somewhere in the back of it all, but whether simply laughing or actively conducting, he didn't know.

The saddest part was that, while he was alive, the wizarding world seemed to unanimously look up to and respect Dumbledore, with some exceptions of those who worked for Voldemort or Fudge. But now it seemed, that with him gone and out of their collective lives, the citizens of wizarding Britain were just as ready to tear through his reputation and seize on any tidbit of gossip about the illustrious wizard's long life.

If not for his newfound understanding and responsibilities regarding the wizarding world, Harry would be hard pressed to find true reasons of why he should support such a weak willed and downright slothful people. Valar only knew why Faykan kept working to try and rescue them from plight after plight, and that explained quite a bit to Harry in those few moments a great deal of what his best friend had gone through.

So, rather than focusing too much of his energy on the impossible problem of the world and its cruelty, Harry focused on the here and now, keeping watch on the outskirts of the wedding party, making absolutely certain that no threats were approaching.

And it was a good thing that he was, along with Faykan and the others. Sometime during the celebration, when a good few of the guests were intoxicated and therefore well out of commission when it came to dueling, a Horned Owl Patronus appeared in the midst of them all. " _The Ministry has fallen_." It declared in a voice that Harry found familiar, but couldn't place. He wasn't even sure about the identity of the person based on the animal form of the spell. " _Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming_!"

The voice clicked in Harry's mind as the creature vanished and the cracks of apparition sounded all around them. Percy Weasley had come to his family's rescue, subtly sending them warning moments before the attack happened.

Leaping into activity, Harry draw from his dress robes the jeweled wand, twisting out of the way of a curse and stunning the masked attacker. All around them, guests were sprinting in all directions; many simply Disapparating on the spot, the rest fleeing toward the orchards and house as the carefully placed wards and enchantments were stripped away one by one.

Masked attackers were appearing all around the property, charging in and causing as much havoc as possible. Thankfully for the guests, and unluckily for the Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters, there were many members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army present, and wands and in some cases other weapons had been drawn by nearly as many wedding guests as those who fled.

Fighting broke out all around the Burrow, the flashes and bangs rising to a near deafening level. Voldemort's supporters were clearly unsuspecting that there'd be so much resistance, as they hadn't bothered to bring any magical creatures as backup.

In the center of the chaos, Faykan stood, blinding light swirling from his staff as all pretext of disguise faded from him. Spells flew from the Istari, catching several attackers at once, meanwhile Faykan kept up a steady stream of encouragement to the defenders. Harry could sense the heavy high elven magic of _Narya_ bolstering their moral at facing the shock troops of Voldemort.

The battle was quick, and with so many advantages the defenders were victorious, despite the surprise nature of the attack. Very few wizards had been killed, the defenders relying strongly on stunners and other impediment spells to hinder and drive away the Death Eaters. The Weasley family was perfectly unharmed, and Harry found Hermione and Draco among them, tending to those of the gusts who had fought and sustained injuries.

One of the fallen was also being tended to; Elphias Doge, who had been a close friend to Albus Dumbledore in their youth. Molly recounted that the very elderly man had to have been inspired by his old friend heroic death, and had battled with them to defend the Delacour family as they escaped with their youngest daughter, Gabrielle. As the French family had disapperated, Doge had been hit with a powerful bone breaking hex as he leaped over a table to shield Fluer's mother from the attacking Death Eater. The old man's frail body had been too far damaged for his magic to preserve, but mercifully he hadn't suffered long before passing away.

The astounding part of the tale that Molly had conveyed was that Doge was well known as a coward for the longest of recounted time. Harry realized the amount of power that Faykan, and he by extension, wielded with just the sheer force of will they had to inspire others to stand and fight for a cause. It was a humbling, and terrifying power. Harry could easily understand how such evil could be accomplished by one of them, such as the acts of Saruman, or Alatar during the dark years after the War of the Ring.

The small silver lining of the attack was that, after a short deliberation with her husband, Mrs. Weasley had finally agreed completely that it was not safe for Harry and the others to go back to school. "If the Death Eaters would attack a wedding to try and find you, you're not safe anywhere," she had said.

With her express permission, they were loaded up with everything they could carry, including what felt like several months-worth of the Weasley's matriarch's home cooking, and sent on their way after they insisted that they knew where they needed to go.

As the five of them departed, Harry turned back to look at what he had, for a few short years, considered his family. The whole of the Weasley family, including Fleur and Bill, were all standing before the Burrow, waving in farewell as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Faykan and Draco strode to the edge of the hastily replaced anti-apparition wards.

Turning back just outside the boundary, the five of them raised their wands as salute, an ancient sign of friendship and farewell. Clasping hands, Harry, Hermione and Faykan turned on the spot, directing their group to squeeze through space to London, arriving in the park beside Grimmauld Place.

Number twelve was visible to them, for they had all been told, either directly or indirectly via a piece of hand written parchment, of its existence by Dumbledore over the past two years. Slowly, making sure that no wizards were around to see, the five of them entered the darkened building and hurried over the threshold.

Closing their door behind them swiftly, they blinked at the oil lamps flared into life down the main corridor. The place looked just as Harry remembered from two years previous, when he had last set foot inside. The last remnants of the Darker aspect of the family still decorated the halls, portraits of the old family snoring quietly in their frames amid the severed elf heads and troll leg umbrella stand.

The place was undisturbed, and a thick layer of a nearly a year's worth of dust lay about the surfaces, which had Harry wondering what exactly Kreacher had been up to all this time. The Order had apparently left in a great hurry when Albus had died, possibly figuring that the location was no longer safe to use as Headquarters.

"More than likely," Hermione agreed when Harry voiced his speculation, "but I still wonder what they may have left behind..."

As they crossed the corridor, Faykan and Harry's staffs lighting the way, several of the portraits grumbled about disturbed sleep, but the house otherwise sat quietly. The murmurs from Sirius' mother's portrait were disconcerting, but they managed to not alert the insane woman to their presence.

Arriving in the kitchen, they relaxed, and Faykan set to work cleaning a small place to set aside as their staging ground to search for the real locket Horcrux. A small twinge of angry pain flittered across Harry's scar, but vanished the moment he felt it. Voldemort was clearly employing Occlumency to seal that connection, but their escape had greatly taxed the Dark Lord's patience. Fawkes flame into being, dropping a message from Orthanc that came from Unspeakable Bode, detailing that the Department of Mysteries had sealed itself off from blatant invasion from the other Departments on the new Minister's orders.

"Things are moving quickly now," Faykan said, "We need to quickly find the Horcrux and move on, as our time here is short. Harry, summon Kreacher…"

Nodding, Harry raised his voice, calling the wretched elf to them, and he appeared with a sickening cracking sound. The tiny being was still wearing the filthy rags from when they had first met, and the contemptuous look he gave Harry upon seeing him. "Master…" he croaked, bowing low and muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with blood-traitors and Mudbloods and Light Lords…"

"Kreacher!" Harry commanded, and the room rattled as his irritation with the elf's dark habits spiked, "You will never use those words or tones again. You will answer our questions truthfully and immediately, understood?"

"Yes, Master," Kreacher said, bowing again. Harry could see that he was mouthing the insults that he would normally speak, but now was forbidden to do.

"Two years ago," Harry began, "there was a big golden locket in the upstairs drawing room. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"

A moment's silence, in which Kreacher stared directly into Harry's eyes in shock, and then he replied obediently, "Yes."

"Where is it now?" Harry said, excitement building.

"Gone," Kreacher said, closing his eyes to block out their reaction.

"Explain what you mean by gone Kreacher," Faykan said from the table, and the elf shivered. Harry was about to order him to respond when the elf croaked, "Mundungus Fletcher stole it. Mundungus Fletcher stole it all: Miss Bella and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistriss's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and…and…"

Gulping for air, Kreacher looked around wildly and he uttered a bloodcurdling scream. "…and the locket, Master Regulus' locket, Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"

Harry reacted instinctively: Kreacher lunged for the nearest weapon to punish himself, and with a bang Harry had the little elf hoisted into the air by magic. "Kreacher, I order you to stop and stand still!"

The elf froze, and Harry safely lowered him to the ground. "Now," Harry said quickly, "Mundungus Fletcher took the locket," Kreacher nodded in response. Harry's mind whirled, connecting R.A.B., Kreacher, the locket and Regulus Black in quick succession.

"Regulus wanted you to destroy the locket," he mused out loud, shocking the elf, "and you couldn't do it… could you…?"

"N…nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," the elf moaned. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing would work… Kreacher was sure the way to destroy was to get inside, but it would not open…"

Kreacher began sobbing louder and louder, and his story got consumes in the noise of it, but Harry had heard all he needed to know. The poor miserably wretch had done as he was commanded by a master he loved and adored, and when he failed he would punish himself, and then tried again; an endless cycle that had clearly driven him into the state of madness that he was in. Harry knew exactly what had to be done.

"Kreacher," he commanded, and the elf looked up at him, "We need the locket, so that we can destroy it, and fulfill Master Regulus' last wish. Find Mundungus Fletcher, and bring here to Grimmauld Place, then send for us. Can you do that for us?" he asked, softening his voice as he looked pityingly at the house elf.

Wide eyed, probably wondering if this was to be true, Kreacher nodded, and stood to carry out his orders. "Hang on a second Kreacher," Harry said, a thought striking him. Withdrawing the fake locket from his robe pocket, he presented it to the elf. "This belonged to Regulus, and I'm more than sure he'd want you to have it, as a token of gratitude…"

It may have been too much. The little elf, overcome by emotion, took one look at the locket and broke down completely, so overcome with being presented a black family heirloom for himself that it took nearly a half hour to calm him down again.

Finally, he solnmly stowed the locket in the cupboard where he slept, bowed to them all, even giving a funny spasm in Hermione's direction that might have been an attempt at a respectful gesture, and disapperated with a loud crack.


	5. Chapter 4

**Cheers for another chapter! Reviews are wonderful, and in short supply. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter Four**

 **Darkness Rising**

Voldemort, Dark Lord of the Earth pulsed with rage at learning of his servant's failure. Yet again, his perfect planning had been foiled by the weak minded creatures that he employed as his hands afar.

The capture of the Ministry was flawless. Scrimgeour died painfully, although regrettably revealing nothing of his theft of the will of Albus Dumbledore. His servants had tracked the ex-Minister's path to the Weasley's hovel, and had attacked moments after the Minister had been slain, but someone in the Ministry had tipped off the otherwise unsuspecting wizards. The ragtag group of fools had managed to drive back the Dark Lord's strike team, and none of those who survived even managed to get a glimpse of Harry Potter in their number.

The boy must have been in hiding, they had said. But he, Lord Voldemort, knew far better. Potter would not hide and let his friends and allies fight for him. The boy would be in the thick of it himself, along with Alatar, stirring up as much trouble as possible.

Those servants who had been punished for their ineptitude. Worse still, the Department of Mysteries had barricaded itself from the rest of the Ministry. Those weak willed cowards who studied the ancient lore of their people had seen the coup for what it was, and Lord Voldemort suspected even now that the Unspeakables conspired with his enemies. Their betrayals would be dealt with.

Standing in the cold air of the Atrium, the Lord of the Earth was overseeing personally the setting up on his authority, commemorated by a new statue to be displayed in the Atrium. ' _Magic is Might,_ ' depicted the greatness of witches and wizards over the lesser races, as the proud figures sat upon thrones made with the dead and dying muggle nations.

It was not close to the truth, Voldemort thought to himself, stroking the blackened ring on his finger, but it would suffice for the time being, and eventually he would unveil the true order of the world when he had crushed all opposition underfoot.

A whispered spell, and three figures materialized from the shadows. "What is thy bidding, Master," purred the first of the three humanoid figure that approached.

Turning to face the three, the Dark Lord spoke in a whisper, voice controlled to the point of ice and venom. "There are five humans who you must seek. The Potter boy is of great value, and must be brought to me alive… kill the others."

Smiling, the pale figure revealed the pointed fangs that embodied his kind. "As you wish, great Lord," the vampire purred, bowing deeply. "We shall seek them to the ends of the earth, and bring their hearts to you as a gift…"

The second, Fenrir Greyback, departed soon after without a word. The Alpha had gained quite a following as the enforcer of the Dark Lord's will in the outlander werewolf packs, despite the attempts by Dumbledore's tame wolf to try and dissuade them from joining their rightful place at Voldemort's side.

Finally, the hulking shadow of the Lord of Azkaban melded back into the shadows, the command of his rightful Lord being all that was required for the wraiths to seek out their newest prey.

Voldemort smiled as the three hunters departed to join their kin. If his mortal servants could not capture the boy, then he would send those whose skills could be trusted to hunt and kill all manner of prey. All three of these creatures knew the rewards for success would be ripe in muggle lives for them and their kin to feast upon, and that failure would bring down Lord Voldemort's displeasure upon them and their kind.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

The group of five didn't have time to remain at Grimmauld Place and wait for Kreacher's return with Mundungus Fletcher, and after adding new layers of magical protection to the location, they departed by Portkey.

Hermione looked around as they landed, blinking confusedly at their new surroundings. She had presumed that they would be returning to Orthanc, but the woods surrounding them were not the same as those in the Vale of Isen, although they were similarly ancient.

"Where are we?" Draco asked, as the others started to glance around them.

A cool breeze ran through the deserted woods, unsettling the dead and drying leaves that piled beneath the towering trees. Yet there was a stillness that Hermione could feel in this place, and an emptiness that made her sad.

"This, dear Draco," Faykan said quietly, with a small amount of sorrow in his words, "was once the great heart of elvendom on earth. _Caras Galadhon_ , of the great woods of _Lothlórien_."

Hermione audibly gasped as she recognized the feeling that she had connected to the name. The Golden Wood had once been the greatest of the Elven Kingdoms of the Third and Fourth ages, and the residual magic on the great capitol could still be felt on them even now.

"Long has this place been hidden away from the world, for they would not understand and respect it as it deserves," Faykan continued, slowly striding closer to the center of the long abandoned city. "The elves of _Lórien_ took great care to make every space into a true work of art, and as their history merges directly into wizarding history, it must be preserved as long as their last gift to the world remains."

"Why are we here now Fay?" Harry asked, green eyes shimmering in the twilight under the darkening trees.

Faykan turned to him, "Because Harry, the powers of _Nenya_ long enchanted this place, and therefore holds a connection to that ring of power. We can use that connection to speak with the bearer of that ring, and seek her guidance."

Hermione didn't understand completely who Faykan was speaking of, but Harry apparently did, as his eyes widened momentarily. As their little group ventured further into the midst of the Golden Wood, Hermione felt her heart turn to sadness. No longer did the shining golds and silvers of the _Mallorn_ trees cover the ground with light. It was as if the land's very heart had removed itself. Thinking about it momentarily, Hermione reasoned that in a sense, it had, as the elves had long since departed the shores of the world, leaving nothing but a history that had shaped the world for all time. And indeed it was they who had added life and soul to these forests, by their magic and their respect of all the works of the Valar.

Before long, after much walking through the overgrown and stilled trees that had once teemed with the city of elves, Faykan steered their little group off a moss covered path and down a sloping staircase. Reaching the bottom, Hermione thought that she recognized where they might be. The visions from the _Palantír_ had been quite clear and accurate when it detailed the moments that the hobbit, Frodo Baggins, had gazed into the mirror of _Galadriel_ to see a glimpse of the future.

As Faykan approached the center of the small clearing, he gingerly pulled away the roots and vines that had grown up over a large basin, standing alone in the middle of the grassy place. a wave of his staff conjured a silver pitcher, which he carried over to the small pool, still fed by the nearby rivers for thousands of years after their mistress had departed for the shores of _Valinor_.

"Harry, we need to look into the mirror…" Faykan said slowly, as he filled the pitcher with crystal clear water.

Ron, who hadn't spent nearly as much time as the others in studying or remembering the elven history of the earth, lean in to Hermione and whispered, "What do they expect to see?"

Faykan overheard, and smiled placidly in their direction, "Even the wisest cannot tell, for the mirror can show many things."

Holding the pitcher high, Faykan allowed the water to pour into the basin as he explained, "things that were… things that are… and even some things that may not yet come to pass…"

Harry stepped forward, and after Faykan set aside the now empty water vessel, together they bowed forward to gaze directly down into the sparkling water. At first, Hermione thought nothing had happened, but then the water started to glow, shining a brilliant blue-white aura.

The two wizards, each gazing deeply into the light, stood motionless, but their eyes slid back, changing from their piercing shades to a blinding whiteness. Their mouths moved, as though speaking, but no voices could be heard by Hermione, Ron or Draco.

Something dawned on Hermione in that time that the two wizards communed with the ancients, and it answered many of her questions regarding Harry and the boy's new knowledge and power. He had, through some event still unknown to her, become something more than human. Something more along the lines of whatever Faykan was. Istari was what they called it, she remembered; a powerful being dwelling among the mortal races.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry blinked as the shocking whiteness of _Valinor_ suddenly engulfed his senses, putting the previous serenity of the Vale of _Lórien_ to shame. Galadriel was there, along with Faykan, and the great _Ñoldor_ elf smiled at Harry as he bowed to her. "So soon we meet again, Harry Potter," she said gently, as a mother would to a favored son.

"It is an honor to be in your presence my Lady," Harry replied, before his curiosity consumed him out of all thoughts of pleasantries, "Although I fear that I do not understand the reason for our meeting…"

Galadriel smiled again, "Ours is a duty to support those of the Free Peoples of the earth, as bearers of the three Elven Rings of Power. If we did not teach you all that that entailed, what would befall the world when all other hope has faded?"

"I am ill equipped to handle all the affairs of this war alone," Faykan explained, "and our friends, while doing their part to the best of their ability, have neither the experience, nor the magical power to defeat Voldemort on their own. So it is to you that the races of men will turn, to throw down this evil once and for all. And to do that you need to understand the powers that you have been given."

"And he shall have power that the Dark Lord knows not…" Harry quoted, nearly holding his breath with anticipation.

"Not so…" Faykan chided softly, "as there are means and ways that Voldemort will learn of the power of the _Valar_ , and naturally he would envy that above all other power. The power he knows not of will come of yourself, from your convictions that he, and all who are selfish like him, would never comprehend as anything but foolishness and a weakness. But that is their folly, for selfless giving is a power greater than any that lives or breathes."

"This you knew before," Galadriel added, her eyes piercing even in the Undying Lands of the West, "and for this cause, we have called you, and others still who will train you on those needful things, so that you will have the wisdom and strength to overcome your trials in this dark hour."

She held out her hand, pointing toward the green sloping lands of the _Valar_ , and Harry looked, wondering in awe as three figures were steadily making their way toward them, clad in radiant sea-blue, earthly brown, and shining white.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Severus had heard from the lower caste of the Dark Lord's servants of the failed attempt to capture Harry Potter at the Weasley's wedding party, the same day as the fall of the Ministry. Naturally he was glad for the boy's escape, as well as the near perfect vanishing act that he and his friends had pulled immediately afterward, but he still wished there was something he could do to assist them.

Unfortunately, whether as an act of trust or distrust, the Dark Lord had seen fit to put Severus back into Hogwarts as Headmaster of the school, ratifying it in the Ministry with his newly forged iron grip that he held therein. The Carrow twins had been put in place at the school also, in the roles of Muggle Studies and Dark Arts teachers. Theodore Nott had returned as well, acting as Head Boy and Voldemort's personal spy in the student ranks, and the boy's intense distrust of Severus did the Potions Master no favors either.

Sitting in the office that had once been held by Dumbledore, Severus pondered deeply what he was to do. He had seen many of the _Crebain_ from day to day, but with the school empty for the summer, and with Nott and the Carrows seeing to the securing of the school on Voldemort's orders, Severus had had little time to send a message out via the birds to the others of Harry's group.

Turning, Severus eyed the various portraits and objects that lined the shelves, which he had kept and preserved from Dumbledore's reign in the office. There was little he would have any need of to add here, and he personally wanted to keep it as it had been, for memories sake. Eyes landing on the portrait of the only other Slytherin Headmaster of Hogwarts, Phineas Nigellus Black, Severus was stumped into wondering where he had seen the portrait before, outside the castle walls.

Grimmauld place, he remembered, and thinking hard, he quickly formulated a plan for the portrait to act on his behalf where the Dark Lord's eyes could never follow it. Quickly, he gave the unpleasant man orders to travel to Grimmauld Place, and get the attention of anyone who was there, and transmit a message from Severus, staying there for months if need be. Hopefully someone from the Order would turn up at the old Headquarters for some reason or another, and there was a chance, however slim, that the message, or portrait itself for that matter, could find its way to Harry and his friends.

Until that time, Severus was effectively trapped at Hogwarts, watching as orcs, trolls, giants and all manner of evil creatures set up positions of strength around the school. Most outside activities would have to be cancelled, he supposed, not only to discourage the children from attempting to escape, but for their own protection from those vile beasts.

He would do everything in his power to soften the burden about to be placed on the students at this school, even though punishments had been placed into the hands of the Carrows by Voldemort himself, with orders to purge the school of any unworthy to become followers of the Dark Lord.

Muggleborns were to be routed out even as they attempted to board the train in London, but thankfully Severus had kept his D.A. coin, and had sent out the message that those of less than halfblood status needed to stay away from Hogwarts that year, as it was no longer safe for them to return.

He just hoped that those who had been in the D.A. in previous years would still listen to the orders from those enchanted objects, as they could also prove to be a useful means to transmit out to the wider world, calling for aid perhaps when the time was right.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco wasn't completely certain how long they remained in the Golden Wood, time almost seemed to be suspended as they waited in that clearing, watching Harry and Fay as they stared silently into the Mirror of Galadriel. What would normally have been a tense amount of waiting was actually quite peaceful here.

All, except for a small fleeting annoyance in the back of Draco's mind, a shadow of something greater. Turning from where he rested against a large moss covered boulder, he gazed through the trees to the northwest. Some presence was stirring out there; he could feel it not only through his magic, but as a warning from _Elendil's_ sword.

"There's something out there," Ron spoke up suddenly, and Draco turned to see his good friend fingering the elven spear at his side, the tip glimmering with a pale fire.

A branch snapped not far away, and they, along with Hermione, were on their feet in a flash. Skittering and clicking started around them. "Spiders," Hermione surmised quickly, and they moved to surround Faykan and Harry, who seemed completely unaware of the danger.

"How many?" Ron asked, steeling himself for a fight.

"Not sure," Hermione responded, hefting her _Galadrim_ bow and notching an arrow.

Drawing _Andúril_ , Draco sank into a fighting stance, eyes straining at the line of trees. The air grew very disquiet, as if in response to something violating the sanctity of the land around them, but with the elves and their magic long gone, there was nothing to stop their stealthy approach.

The silence was haunting as the three of them stood ready for several seconds, and then the trees around them erupted. Eight eyed, eight legged, massive hairy bodies launched from the undergrowth all around, landing heavily and jolting them all with the force of their weight striking the packed earth.

Draco had thought that the spiders near Hogwarts had been large, now he knew that he had been mistaken. These specimens dwarfed even the largest from that battle by at least half again in size. Pincers snapping and bile oozing, four of the massive spiders advanced from all sides, with more pouring out of the trees behind them.

Hermione struck first, screaming in fury as she launched a volley of arrows at the nearest advancing spiders, several bouncing off the main spider's carapace harmlessly, while two struck home, one striking an eye, while the second dug deeply into the unprotected flesh as its pincers had been open. Many of the other, smaller spiders were struck harder, slaying several as they tried to spill around the legs of their lager brother.

But even with its gaping wounds, the hulking monster had only staggered for a moment before recovering. Ron leapt at the ones on his side, conjuring flame with his wand and stabbing at the largest creature with Gil-galad's spear. The blue, leaf shaped blade scored light wounds, and the spider retreated a pace to escape the flames that consumed more of its kin, but otherwise remained unharmed.

As for Draco, he was beset with the remaining two elephant-sized beasts and countless smaller creatures. A quick bludgeoning hex knocked out the legs of one of the gargantuan spiders, causing it to fall mid stride, while Andúril met the other, slashing and hacking, as Draco nimbly avoided the pincers and stinger, sending countless curses and hexes at the smaller beasts. The massive creature attempted to spin around to get a better sight on the blond, but Draco ducked around behind it, slashing and stabbing at the massive abdomen, and being rewarded with shrieks of pain and spurts of black blood.

Suddenly, Draco felt something large and powerful collide with him from behind, and to his horror, he saw the spider he had tripped come barreling into him, knocking him flying back into a mass of smaller spiders, their pincers snapping at him in fury. His wand was knocked from his hand, and by reflex Draco clenched onto his remaining weapon, slashing from the ground at those that tried to swarm him while he was down.

Both Hermione and Ron were slowly being pushed back by their own mass of opponents, and were in no position to assist Draco as the massive spider stomped over to him. Draco rolled, dodging as a stinger dug into the ground where he had been laying, and thrust upward, digging the King's blade deeply into the soft underbelly of the massive spider above him.

It reared back, pulling him to his feet and wrenching the sword from its body, and retreated back, leaving a trail of black blood. But its fellows charged in to avenge the wound, and the bushes all around were still rustling and clicking with more spiders being drawn to the source of the commotion.

"Harry!" Draco heard Ron shout, "Faykan! Help us!"

Draco didn't expect the shout to work, as the pair seemed too deep in their own trance to even be aware of them, but to his amazement and relief both immediately snapped out of their dazed states. Staffs rose together and each of the powerful wizards bellowed, " _kalina en' i' amrun elen urya_!"

Twin explosions rocked the glade, and blinding light like twin suns blossomed all around. The spiders fell back en mass, struggling to cover their eyes from the light. In the midst of the ensuing confusion, the green and blue robed young men fell among them like thunderbolts.

Draco felt more than heard the ground shake as they one of the two landed near him. He had been blinded as well, and could only guess by the sounds of shrieking that the spiders were being driven from him with little effort. Arms seized him under the arms and hefted him backward, and as Draco's eyes came back into focus he saw Harry's face, grim and determined, yet shining with magical power.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry wrenched Draco back to the area immediately around the Mirror, keeping his staff trained on the circle of spiders threateningly. ' _Thirty spiders to the north, and an equal number to the east,_ ' Faykan whispered in his mind. One of the first skills he had been so recently taught was how to manipulate the innate connection between those who served the _Valar_ to communicate instantly with another member of the _Istari_.

' _More of the same on the west and_ south,' he replied quickly. The horde had been pushed back for the moment, but they were regrouping quickly. A wave of pure magical force from the shining emerald sent the nearest line flying backward, and Harry dipped into his newly formed store of magical lore to understand where these spiders had come from.

There was no likely way that these beasts had any close ties to those of the Hogwarts forest. ' _If only the forest was back in its former glory_ ,' Faykan mourned in Harry's mind. Even as Harry danced forward to strike back at a knot of skittering creatures he responded, mind spinning with possibility, ' _why couldn't it, just for a few moments at least_?'

Reaching out to the ambient magic that still lingered here in the decaying heart of elvendom, Harry touched the remaining ley lines that had once protected the Golden Wood from the creatures of Mordor, charging them with the power of _Vilya_ , while at the same time drawing _Hadhafang_. He knew, from the connection that he had recently been awakened to that existed between all five Istari, that Faykan was beside him doing the very same, pouring the fire of hope from _Narya_ into the very same channels carved by _Nenya_ long ago.

' _It's brilliant, why did I not think of it_. _Wisely spotted Kentano_.' Faykan declared as the ley lines reacted, sputtering to life with the fresh source of familiar magic.

As the five humans backed to the immediate area of the dais upon which the Mirror rested, Harry couldn't help but smile as the magic of the Three Rings returned to _Lothlórien_. In a last desperate charge, the spiders surged forward once again, eager to devour the five teenagers. But the united front of magic users could now work together. Draco and Ron immediately set to laying a protecting ward of fire, while Hermione peppered the largest of their attackers with arrows.

Meanwhile, Faykan danced around their parameter, slaughtering many of the smaller spiders that were daring enough to charge the ward. Harry held back, monitoring the charge of power throughout the forest, and preparing the incantations that he had so recently learned. Observing the battle around him, Harry puzzled over the seeming difference of time that existed between _Arda_ and _Valinor_. What had seemed to be hours on the white shores had been less than two in Lórien, and it was slightly disorienting.

The spiders continued to swarm, and as the largest arrived at the line of fire, Harry felt the magic of the wood spike around him.

It had remembered.

Color exploded around them as Faykan and Harry spoke in the ancient language of the _Ñoldor_ , commanding the wood in the name of the Lady of _Lórien_ to awaken to its old duties, one last time. The dead and dying vegetation sprang back into life, and gold and silver rays of light bore down from above as the memory of the mighty _Mallorns_ shimmered into being.

The spiders fell all around them, the light burning them wherever it struck. The horde turned tail and fled, retreating from their sight, and even when they had gone Harry could still hear their shrieks of pain for a long time after. The forest remained in that state of remembrance for only a short time longer before the magic faded away for good.

Without the presence of the elves, whose very lives were works of pure magic, the forests wouldn't be able to sustain that powerful of an enchantment for more than a few moments. But that initial pulse of magical purity was more than enough to shake the conviction of the spiders from their goal.

As they all finally relaxed, Harry turned his mind to the next important task, where had the spiders come from, and why did they congregate so quickly upon them. Faykan caught his eye, and Harry knew the location immediately in the worry from his fellow Istari's face.

Long had it been since the darkness of _Dol Guldur_ been felt this far south. The ancient fortress had long ago been razed by Galadriel herself, but the evil that marked that spot endured.

"Now what was all that about?" Ron asked loudly as he slumped in exhaustion.

"Isn't it obvious Ron," Harry said, catching the attention of the Hermione and Draco as well, "the darkness of Mordor is returning, drawn by Voldemort from all corners of the earth. Vile things best left alone are awakening in the dark, and will continue to do so until he is put down."

"We can at least end the infestation to this place, surely?" Hermione asked, looking between Harry and Faykan.

There was a long pause in which Harry and Faykan conversed quickly in the realms of thought. "We can," Faykan answered after the long conversation of a few seconds. "And we shall," Harry added, "however, it is a task for us two alone."

"What?" Ron said, confused, "you're sending us away?"

"Yes, for your safety," Harry replied. ' _It is for the best_ ,' Faykan agreed mentally, while physically he added, "the source of these beasts is far more dangerous than even the Forbidden forest outside Hogwarts. We need swiftness and stealth for this, and those back at Orthanc need to know that we are safe."

"But…" Hermione started, but Harry cut her off, "No Hermione, we are agreed in this. We simply have too much to manage to stick together all the time, and this is something best taken care by us alone."

"I agree…" Draco spoke up. Harry, along with all the others turned to him, shock evident in Ron and Hermione's faces.

"What?" he asked them, returning their gazes, "It's obvious that there are more duties than any one of us can handle, it makes logical sense. They're the most powerful magically, and are needed to deal with this situation, while we can do any number of things to make the war effort smoother."

The other two started to argue intensely, but Harry knew with Draco on their side the others would agree in the end. Faykan didn't hesitate, but immediately took up the silver pitcher, enchanting it with the spell that turned objects into Portkeys, and held it out to Draco to take.

As the three vanished in the swirl of color, Harry looked toward the north east, grimly setting his face. ' _Are you ready_?' he asked of Faykan mentally.

' _No, but let's go anyway_ ,' Faykan replied, hesitating only slightly before venturing forward into the trees. Harry only waited a moment before following. This may be the most potential dangerous situation they were going into, but they had agreed that worrying the others wasn't worth it when they absolutely had to go and stop this evil at its source.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix sniggered to herself as she strode down Diagon Alley. The fools of the wizarding public weren't ready to know that she was among them again, even though the panic would have been more than delightsome for her to witness.

Shrouded in a hooded cloak, the Dark Lord's right hand walked in the shadows up towards the newest target that her Master had ordered taken. Certain aspects of the wizarding world had been permitted to retain in the new order, while some must be regulated most strictly. And this was one thing that the Dark Lord wanted taken care of most immediately.

As she arrived at the doorstep of her target, Bella sensed several of the other followers of her Master lingered back, just in the off chance that she encountered more resistance than she expected. Not that it was very likely to happen; what could one old man do against her.

Slipping into the shop, Bellatrix silenced the bell before it could jingle and give her away. It wouldn't do to lose the element of surprise when she was to ambush one that was relatively an unknown factor, a constant that even her Lord had been nervous to have captured.

The shop was so very similar to when Bella was here last, long before her imprisonment. It had hardly changed, down to the chair in the corner that her father had hated to sit upon while he waited for them.

Drawing her wand, she stealthily scanned the shelves, trying to see where the little old man might be hiding. The slightest of creaks warned her to the man's location moments before the crash of shelves forced her to dodge backward.

"You won't get away!" she cackled, launching a blasting hex at the nearby wall, making it explode outward, destroying a fair amount of the inventory left in the store. a pair of curses caught the man as he made a mad dash toward the door.

Mr. Ollivander didn't put up much of a fight, for being such an illustrious wandmaker. Seizing the old man by the scruff of the neck, Bellatrix dragged him to his feet. The man tried to defend himself wandlessly, but a simply silencing charm snuffed out any attempts, "You're wanted by the Dark Lord," Bella whispered happily as she conjured a bag over the man's head.

The noise from inside the shop had caused many heads to turn all along the alleyway, but those same onlookers scattered as Bellatrix dragged Ollivander out into the street to the waiting underlings. Her Lord would be pleased at the success of this mission, Bella knew it for certain.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione was torn over Harry, Faykan and Draco's decision for them to separate in _Lórien._ On the one hand, emotionally, she was furious at them all. Were she, Ron and Draco less than the other two? Were they simply not capable of helping them the same way? But at the same time, her logical side knew that it was the right thing to do.

Draco had expressed it perfectly; there was simply other talents and abilities that she, Ron and even Draco would be useful for than only front line fighters. And from what she had learned of the placed once called the Hill of Sorcery, it wasn't the sort of location that she would have felt very safe near even with Harry and Faykan at her side.

No, best for the pair of them to handle the most dangerous missions, as they truly were more magically powerful than even she, and Hemione and the others devote their time and abilities to those tasks that were more in line with what Harry and Faykan could not spare the time for, such as monitoring the communications from the various spies and other informants that they retained in Britain.

From the large network of D.A. coins and jewelry that had been passed out over the last two years, their band of resistants had plenty of information passing through regularly, to and from various members reporting on the domination of Britain. They knew, therefore, which Muggleborns were slowly being detained across the country, and that Professor Snape had been selected by the Death Eaters as Headmaster of Hogwarts. Hermione wished they had a reliable means of communicating directly with him, but the coins were more of a widespread message delivery system; when one coin sent a message, all others displayed it.

Still, it was with a rather heavy heart that Hermione entered Orthanc without the two boys who were among her closest friends, not knowing if they were safe, or even on their way shortly afterward.

"Cheer up Hermione," Ron said in passing, patting her arm, "They'll come back."

Smiling in spite of herself, Hermione wondered when the red haired boy grew to be so observant. They had changed from so long ago, from a boy that would focus solely on stuffing his face and speaking his mind, to more of a quiet and compassionate soul, although Ron managed to retain the stapled Weasley temper, when it was called for. Battle seemed to agree with him, and his obsession with chess seemed to pay off considerable with viewing strategic possibilities.

Draco on the other hand, Hermione noticed had grown quite out of his own little shell. Gone was the more aloof Slytherin that had been more of a secret friend than a loyal companion, and in his place stood a tall and proud royal heir. Hermione wondered briefly if, after all this madness with Voldemort ended, if Faykan intended to reinstate the Monarchy that had existed back in the Third and Fourth Ages.

"It would be like him," she muttered to herself aloud, her thoughts drifting to the mysterious boy-Istari. Still impossible at times, and extremely aloof, Faykan seemed to be the most constant out of them all, not that she blamed the oldest being among them for it. Rather, despite his own self remaining overall unchanged, their own growth around him seemed to have an effect of altering their view of him, from an odd boy with many significant quirks to a wise and powerful leader, humble yet bold.

Even of the four boys around her though, Hermione recognized the greatest change in Harry. From an almost timid and shy child of eleven, Harry had more than blossomed into a fearsome and determined young man. Certianly not one she would want to date, Hermione considering the boy to be more of her brother than anything else, but nevertheless quite important to her. She could confidently say that she would follow Harry to the brink of destruction and back without a second thought, and that was even before the boy had changed into the graceful and wise leader that he had under Faykan's tutoring.

Sighing to herself, Hermione shook her head wondered at the magic of the places and lands she had just encountered. She didn't count herself as one who would wax nostalgic over every little thing, but it was as though she had undergone quite the transformation herself. Was she, Hermione Granger, still the same lonely bookworm that she once was? Turning the lens of observation inward was far more difficult that looking outward upon others.

Nevertheless, there was a certain peace that seemed to overcome her as she walked the halls of Orthanc, glimpsing for the hundreth time the vast collections of artifacts and treasures from ages long past. She would not stop worrying for Faykan, Harry and the others, especially Ron, but she had a certain peace about what their future held for them. It was as if the _Valar_ were indeed watching over them. And that thought, while strange and rather foreign to the normally not very superstitious girl, was comforting nonethesame.

 _kalina en' i' amrun elen urya : light of the morning star blaze_


	6. Chapter 5

**Ah another week and another chapter to post. I am pleased with the life that has been breathed back into this story by the appearance of quite a number of followers and reviews in the last week or so, and I look forward to the comments that will continue to arise as the story progresses. until such a time, please, take your time, enjoy!**

 **Chapter Five**

 **North and South**

Greenwood the Great, oft times called Mirkwood when the shadow of darkness fell over it, stretched long into the northern areas of eastern Europe. Harry had never been in a place quite like this, except for the few times he entered the Hogwart's forest before _Bregalad_ began awakening the trees there.

He and Faykan were still able to make excellent time, bolstered by the ever fading light from _Lórien_ behind them, and they boldly ventured into the darkening trees. Once, long ago the Wood elves make their homes in the northern parts of these forests, and even the elves of _Lothlórien_ had ventured to this place after the destruction of the One Ring.

Now however, the wild forest had returned, and with it the darker creatures had multiplied. With the elves long gone and their light dwindled, it was an easy matter for them to take control, much as Aragog's brood had once commanded the forest nearest to Hogwarts.

As they progressed deeper, Harry began to feel the strange foreboding that loomed like a mist over the wood, the aura of menace that had given the forest its more sinister name. It was strange to think that any power of Mordor still existed in the world, the great and terrible Dark Lord having been forever defeated when the Rings of Power he commanded were destroyed.

Nothing tried to hinder them as they pressed on toward the ruins of the fortress that had served as Sauron's northern outpost outside of Mordor, which added to the air of caution that the pair of Istari were experiencing. There should have been at least some attempts at resistance by their enemies, as the spiders that attacked them back in _Lórien_ were testament that not all had departed for Britain to answer Voldemort's summons.

' _We should almost be there now_ ,' Faykan said over their mental link, pointing up ahead to a vast and desolate clearing. They had been traveling for hours, but the demands of their travel had not as of yet wearied Harry, who ascribed this endurance to his newly unlocked and instructed magical abilities. The Istari of old were long renowned as travelers and able to turn up at the right time for any given event, and that had in part to do with the guidance of the _Valar_ as well as their own skill and magic to sustain themselves.

Only Saruman had ever truly settled down in one location for an extended period of time, shortly before the pull of Sauron had corrupted the once White Wizard. Harry could understand much of Faykan's fears about his own negative traits, seeing the great chaos that the leader of the Order had nearly accomplished by following such a similar road.

 _Valar_ willing, he would do everything in his power to protect his friend from such a fall, and together with their allies they would see the end of Voldemort, and whatever else the _Valar_ asked of them before their work was completed.

Finally, they arrived at the ruins of the Hill of Sorcery, where vegetation had ceased to grow for centuries prior, and started to weave their way through the massive stones that had once comprised of the Mordor built fortress.

Darkness truly gripped this place still, Harry could sense, and from what he had read and seen from the _Palantír_ , the influence of Sauron had persisted throughout the Third Age and the War of the Ring, up until Galadriel herself had destroyed the fortress with the last of the magic of _Nenya_. It had been one of the great last acts of the elven rings before the passing of the elves into _Valinor_.

However, it seemed that it had not been enough, as even amid the ruin and destroyed metal and stone the vile presence of the Great Eye was still present, lingering like a noxious cloud over the place that had once been a bastion of his power.

' _What does this mean_?' Harry asked Faykan, and the other Istari looked deeply troubled as he considered the possibilities around them.

' _I do not wish to consider it, but the possibility that Sauron has not been forever banished had occurred to me.._ ' Faykan responded, and Harry felt himself shiver in muted terror at the thought. To think that the horror of the Third Age was still abroad in the land was not a pleasing thought in the least sense of the word.

' _Could it just be Voldemort, acting through the evil left in this place_?' he countered, hoping to steer their thoughts away from the enemy of all free creatures.

' _It does not have his same magical signature that I can see_ ,' Faykan replied slowly, ' _but there is a familiar ring to it..._ ' he paused, and Harry glanced across a pile of rubble at his friend. Something about the word 'ring' had struck them both instantly.

For Harry, it had thrown him back to a vision he had had of the Dark Lord nearly two years previously, when the orcs of Mordor had first approached Voldemort, offering a gift; a small ring they had claimed was a gift from their lord.

' _By the Valar_ ,' Faykan said, shock evident in his thoughts, ' _How had we not seen it before_?'

' _How could it be possible that the Dark Lord survived_?' Harry conjectured, trying to solve this puzzle that they both equally recalled as undeniable fact.

' _Three rings for the elven kings, under the sky, returned home to the lands from whence they came_ ,' Faykan recited, and Harry brushed a thumb over _Vilya_ as it rested on his own hand, ' _Seven for the Dwarf-Lords, in their halls of stone, consumed by Dragons and lost of old...'_

 _'And Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die_ ,' Harry finished, ' _lost to fire and in shadow's lie_.'

Except, Harry pondered, and he glanced at Faykan, who was returning the same realization, "The Witch-King of Angmar fell on the fields of Pelenor, not in the fires of the volcano that consumed the others in addition to the One." Faykan said aloud.

"And as they were all handled and subjected to the power of the One, they would have contained portions of Sauron's power..." Harry added, eyes widening in horror.

"So long as one ring that he had any influence over survived, the Dark Lord of the Earth would rise again to try and cover the land with Darkness..." Faykan finished, hanging his head in shock of the realization.

"So Voldemort is not nearly the greatest thing we have to fear any longer..." Harry surmised.

"So long as he possesses the ring of the Witch-King, Sauron is in position to return to power, through another puppet, much like Saruman."

Harry shook his head, astonished at the tenacity of the Lord of Mordor. Voldemort and his Horcruxes couldn't so much as hold a candle to this level of power; one that surpassed even their own as Istari.

"We must destroy Voldemort, and without him the Ring will be defenseless, we can take it and destroy it just as the One had been so long ago, in fire from whence it came." Faykan said slowly, with finality.

"And we shall," Harry agreed, "starting right here and now…"

Faykan nodded, and together they raised their staffs. " _dae en' i' goth_ , _naara ed' i' kalina en' i' valar_!" Light exploded from the jewels that crowned each staff, battling the lingering shadows from the ruins of _Dol Guldur_.

Somewhere, out in the darkness of the old ruin, Harry thought he heard the whispers of the Black Speech, perhaps the lingering shade of the famed Necromancer, but it was quickly silenced by the powers of the Light.

As the last of the darkness dissipated, Harry felt the tension around the forest lift. "The taint is dissipating, and with time Greenwood will heal at last." Faykan said.

Harry nodded, preparing to return to Orthanc, when a surge of magic from the direction of London directed his thoughts to Grimmauld Place. ' _Kreacher has found Mundungus…_ ' he communicated to Faykan as the other Istari joined him with a Portkey in hand.

' _Excellent_ ,' came the return thought. ' _We'll need to collect the others, as I doubt they'd like being left out of something this important, especially right after we sent them back for this venture_.'

Harry knew that Faykan was recalling the handful of times that he himself had excluded Harry, along with the others, for events and battles that had taken place over the past two years, but now that he stood in the same shoes that his fellow Istari wore, he understood the need to protect those he cared about more than ever.

Instead of responding, he let the jibe slide, focusing on activating the Portkey and taking them back to Isengard, wondering for a moment what the thief that Kreacher had captured would reveal to them regarding Slytherin's locket.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco turned at the flash of color that deposited Harry and Faykan back safely within the borders of Orthanc's wards. From nearby, he heard Hermione breathe a sigh of relief. They had all been somewhat worried with how long the pair had been gone, regardless of how magically powerful they were.

"So, what was it?" Ron asked, striding up and putting an arm around Hermione.

"Not good news, I'm afraid," Harry responded, "but Kreacher also reported in, he has Mundungus at Grimmauld Place."

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but a loud cawing drove what he was planning on asking from his mind. They all looked up to see the large Iron Hill raven soaring down to them. "Well," Faykan said, "I had actually wondered if Náin would call on us when the time for their battle came through… however this does add a bit of complication to our plans."

"How so?" Hermione asked.

"It's obvious isn't it," Draco responded, momentarily feeling out of place in explaining the situation to Hermione, but with the state she was now recovering from, anything was possible. "We can't go to the battle and interrogate Mundungus at the same time, at least not as a full group."

"Exactly," Faykan agreed, "We'll need to split up for this, half of us taking an army to reinforce the Dwarven invasion of Gundabad, while the others go to Grimmauld Place and get the vital information about the locket from that thief…"

"I'll go to Grimmauld Place," Harry volunteered, "You're needed in the battle Fay, out of all of us."

The pair exchanged something unspoken, if Draco could guess anything from the look that they shared. It was rather odd to think that of the five of them, Harry and Faykan were something more than human, but slowly Draco was coming to terms with the concept.

"I'll go with Harry," Hermione said, stepping across to stand next to the black haired boy. "Ron, you and Draco should go to the battle, you're both far more qualified for the needs of the Rohirrim warriors than I could ever be."

Ron looked like he was about to protest, when Draco put a hand on his shoulder, "She's right mate," he said, smirking, "We need your big strategic brain for this, and besides, Harry will keep her safe if anything was to happen, which I highly doubt… Mundungus is a coward isn't he? What's to fear?"

Ron sagged slightly, "Yeah," he said, "you're right."

Harry and Hermione were already preparing to leave, and Draco steered Ron toward where Faykan was signaling for the army of Rohan to assemble.

"What news my lord?" King Ceolwulf said as he approached upon horseback.

"The King of the Dwarves has called for our aid in a battle to retake the ancient sacred place of his people, currently known as Mount Gundabad…"

The men all around hushed at the name. Draco understood their hesitation to go near the legendary orcish stronghold, "I do not doubt your word, lord Alatar," Ceolwulf replied, himself looking disturbed, "but that place has long been stained with the evils of Mordor's filth. I would not feel remotely secure in leading my people to their deaths in that wretched place…"

"I understand," Faykan said, bowing slightly in respect for the King's decision, "and I do not shun you for your fear of a greater foe on their soil and in their own lands. Nor would I ever lead you blindly to your deaths. No, this battle is not for the cavalry of Rohan, but we will need ever spare wand, able to cast bombardment spells from afar. If we can pummel the enemy fortress with strong enough magic, the Dwarves would do the work of sacking the fortress well enough on their own I believe."

The King of Rohan seemed to consider the thought, "I… believe this is an acceptable risk," he agreed, "but I want several battalions of soldier to guard our wizards, and at the first sign of their position being overrun I want them to retreat back here with all possible speed. I will not risk our people blindly in an offensive attack on so strong a foe. If the Dwarves wish to destroy themselves upon their ancient nemesis, then so be it, but I will not follow them down the road of destruction."

"Nor would I," Faykan said, inspiring courage with every word, "But I would do what I could to see that they are spared that outcome."

"So be it…" Ceolwulf said, beckoning a runner with one hand, and commanding the young lad to summon every available wizard and foot soldier of Rohan to the main courtyard.

Draco watched with fascination as Faykan wove pure magical in the air, tearing open the fabric of space and time, creating a pure vortex between them under their protections and the field of the nearing battle. Wide crags and bare mountains stretched out in the forbidding landscape on the other side of the portal.

Looking to his side, Draco saw Ron also staring fixedly into the portal, but the calculation in the redhead's mind was more obvious. With all his skill at chess, Draco had still been thoroughly amazed at Ron's even greater eye for the more complex and varied strategy of fully fledged battle. Advantages and terrain were ever as important to the same boy that loved good food and the warmth of his family's humble home. It just added to the wellspring of respect that Draco had for Ron all the more.

A Rohirric horn blew, and Draco tore his eyes to see as the wizards of Rohan, dressed in a rush of colors and furs for their colder climate assembled, speaking nervously as to why they alone had been called, and not the famed Horse Lords of their people.

Seeing a moment where he may be needed, Draco stepped forward, instantly attracting the attention of the assembled force of fifty or so wizards and twice that of foot soldiers. "Men and brethren of Rohan," Draco said, feeling the comforting presence of _Eldarion_ as the Mage-King's spirit calmed his nerve of speaking to a gathering so large. "We move out to strike at a fortress of Voldemort in the north. A bastion that if left unchecked could wash through our dwarven allies, and threaten your own homes long after this war is won. As we speak, the Dwarves march on their ancient foe's bastion, and they call upon us for aid, and we will not leave them friendless. The men of old, the _Númenóreans_ from across the sea, held great respect for the Sons of _Durin_ , especially the great King _Elessar_ _Telcontar_."

The men before him were fixated on his every word, and Draco knew that in this moment, he was no mere boy in their eyes, but more clearly than ever he could see himself as a great leader, wise and prudent in his dealings, worthy of the name by which Faykan had gifted him. He could indeed be _Sgiathatch Telcontar_ , the Dragon Strider as the name literally translated from elvish.

"Men and brethren!" Draco continued, throwing an arm wide to reveal the sword of kings on his belt, beneath the thick cloak he wore. "We will uphold the great king's honor and wisdom, and fight to protect our allies from this evil one again. We face numbers that are staggering, but our objective is clear. Destroy the enemy's outlying fortifications, and pave the way for the Dwarves to retake their long-lost sanctuary!"

A roar from the crowd met his words, and the wizards before him turned to face the portal, steel in their eyes and hands fingering their wands in a state ready for battle. Draco wasn't sure how or why his words were so powerful, but each man and woman before him seemed to have heard something they needed to calm their nerves and set their resolve.

Turning back to the portal, Draco started walking dutifully toward it, and the wizards and witched behind him followed, even as their King declared the time for them to move out. Faykan gave a nod of thanks to Draco as the blond passed, and Ron fell into step beside Draco.

Passing through the portal, they found themselves buffeted by the strong northern winds, and squinted their eyes against the loose dust that was thrown up be the swirling vortex they had passed through.

Looming ahead of them, its many cragged spires jutting upward, was a massive structure carved out of the very mountains around it. "Mount Gundabad," Draco identified.

"You are correct, Lord _Telcontar_ ," said a gravelly voice behind them. Draco and Ron turned to find the three Dwarf Lords approaching upon rams, "King Náin," Draco said with a small bow to the mounted Dwarf, "We are yours to command this battle."

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione landed shakily in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Harry had quickly created a portkey for their use while Ron, Draco and Faykan prepared their group to transport up northward where the Dwarves were to fight their orcish enemies.

"Kreacher!" Harry announced as they arrived, and the elf apparated to them, dragging a mass of limbs and rags with him. "Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Master." The little elf said with a low respectful bow.

Mundungus scrambled up from the floor and pulled out his wand, but Harry stamped his staff on the floor and the room quaked, "MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER!" he bellowed, frightening the man into dropping his wand of his own accord. Hermione gasped, watching as every light in the room dimmed and Harry seemed to swell with power.

"What?" Mundungus tried to plead, "Wha've I done? Lemme go, or I'll…"

"YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO MAKE THREATS HERE, MUNDUNGUS!" Harry continued, cowing the man into submission. Even Kreacher seemed in awe of Harry's sheer magical strength and presence.

"You will answer our questions Fletcher," Harry commanded, his voice softer now as lights slowly brightened once again in the room. "When you cleaned out this house of anything valuable," Harry started, but Mundungus had clearly not learned his lesson, as the man interrupted immediately.

"Sirius never cared about any of the junk…"

But he too was interrupted by the sound of pattering feet, and an echoing clang as Kreacher ran at the thief and hit him squarely in the head with a saucepan. "Argh! Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!" Mundungus yelled, cowering as Kreacher raised the pan again.

"Kreacher, no," Harry said calmly. The elf froze, looking longingly at Fletcher, and asked, "Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?"

Hermione tried, but couldn't stifle the giggle at the elf's joke. "We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading, you may do the honors," Harry replied.

"Thank you very much, Master," Kreacher replied with another bow, and he back away several steps, keeping his eyes on Fletcher with loathing burning in them.

"When you stripped this house of all the valuables," Harry continued, readdressing Mundungus, "you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard. There was a golden locket hidden there. What did you do with it?"

"Why?" Fletcher asked immediately. "Is it valuable?"

"You still have it then?" Hermione asked.

"No he doesn't, "Harry surmised, seeing something in the filthy man's eyes that Hermione didn't, "He's wondering whether he should have asked for more than he got for it…"

"More?" Mundungus replied, shaking his head, annoyed. "That wouldn't have been effing difficult… bleedin' gave it away, di'n' I? No choice."

"Explain," Harry commanded, light from his staff flashing for a moment.

Hermione listened with growing dread as the disgusting man told the story of how a Ministry official had confiscated the locket in exchange for not turning him in for illegally selling his stolen goods. She had a sinking suspicion as to the identity of that particular female Ministry worker.

"Who was this woman?" Harry demanded.

"I dunno, some Ministry hag." Mundungus considered for a moment, eying the glowing jewel atop the golden staff before continuing, "Little woman. Bow on top of 'er head." He frowned and added, "Looked like a toad."

"Umbridge," Harry said, anger evident in his voice. "Naturally she would still be working for the Ministry, after all the problems she's caused…" turning back to Mundungus he continued, "Go, get out of here, and never let us see you again. You're help may have saved the world, not that you'd care…"

"I…what?" the man stuttered, but Harry cracked his staff on the ground again, and the man scampered for the door, causing the portraits in the hall to awaken and start spewing the vile hatred at the man as he fled out the door.

Hermione took the strange moment to actually study Harry. the young innocent boy had grown up a lot over the seven years that she had known him, sprouting from the shortest boy in their year to, while not the tallest by far, still a very decent height. His face had a more angular sharpness to it, which accented his emerald eyes that seemed to burn when he was angry. The years of Quidditch and training with swords and magic had toned him well, and he filled out his robes nicely. Even his hair, which used to be a medium rat nest was fuller and more manageable with how he had let it grow out to near shoulder length.

It was easy to see why so many of the girls in Hogwarts had been crawling over themselves to try and get dates with the boy, not that he had had any time or care to pay attention to their advances. Harry was focused almost solely on the war now, and since Dumbledore's funeral, he'd become a lot more like Faykan is his aloofness, but not so much in an unapproachable way. The same gentle and kind personality was there, just steeped with stern experience and, for lack of a better word, wisdom that Hermione had never noticed before.

Harry had focused on something that had fluttered to the ground as Mundungus had fled. Summoning it wordlessly, he fanned out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Hermione wondered why the man had had a back issue on him when Kreacher had caught up to the thief, but there it was. the front page was devoted to a picture of Harry, with the caption ' _Wanted for Questioning about the death of Albus Dumbledore_.'

"Well, I guess the Death Eaters have created a false reason as to why I ought to be brought into _their_ Ministry…" Harry said, eyes glazing over the front page and scanning the rest of the paper in quick order.

"Surely people are realizing what's happening though?" Hermione said as she too read the short article demanding the capture of Harry and anyone who was traveling with him. she herself was fuming over the lies she was reading. Scrimgeour had reportedly resigned, to be replaced with Pius Thickness, whom they had learned previously from Broderick Bode was under the Imperius Curse.

The about of doubt and fear that was being sown into the Wizarding World was palpable, and even more so was being created with the Ministries newest legislation against Muggleborns. The claim that had supposedly been made by the Department of Mysteries was obviously a lie, as Bode had strongly declared that they were against Voldemort and his current power play for the Ministry.

"Some, perhaps," Harry replied. "But I would guess from the lack of revolt or any sort of news that we've received, that the Death Eater's coup had been virtually silent as to the rest of the wizarding world. With us all but vanished in the blink of an eye, they've had very little to compete with on a political front. But it's of little consequence…" Harry said, handing Hermione the paper and stepping away, "our next step will take us into the heart of the Ministry itself anyway, and we may have opportunity to do something about the lies they are spreading for Voldemort, as well as capturing the locket from Umbridge."

Hermione nodded, agreeing implicitly. She chose to still hang onto the paper, if only to show to the others as Harry prepared a portkey to return them to Orthanc, after thanking Kreacher profusely.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco stood in awe as the sheer number of Dwarves that the King of _Khazad-dûm_ had summoned to battle. Scantly a few months ago when they scrambled to the defense of Erebor, Draco would have guessed there being as few as several thousand warriors among them remaining, but here was living proof that the sons of Durin were still a force to be reckoned with.

"How many are there?" Draco heard Ron ask Faykan.

"I haven't a clue, Ron," the Istari replied, "I have never taken the time to study the complicated and quite wild routes that the genealogies of Durin's sons takes, but you can count that every last one of those warriors can claim relation to each other, meaning so long as one lives, a leader can be found for the greatest of the Dwarven Kingdoms."

Náin, who was ahead of their group of wizards along with his bodyguards and elite warriors, huffed at Faykan's words, but did not comment further. The dwarven army, numbering easily in the tens of thousands, was camped out in the highlands that surrounded the desolate mountains and the fortress that sat on in the pass northward.

Light was just starting to dawn in the east, and the camp awakening, when the king made his way, along with his advisors, and Draco, Ron and Faykan representing of the wizarding force, to his own pavilion, where a mock battle map was spread across a low table, stone figuring indicated the future positions of each dwarven battalion, and the likely places where their enemies were to entrench themselves in the coming battle.

"We come with strict orders from the Lord of the Mark, for the usage of his magical subjects," Faykan said, which was ignored by the dwarven king.

"I will speak, Lord Alatar, with those whose aid I had called for." He retorted brashly, turning to look directly at Draco.

Widening his eyes in realization, Draco sought for the guidance from the spirit of _Andúril_ , but only found a brief flash of confidence from the ancient king who had enchanted the weapon.

"I…" he started, looking between Faykan and Ron, seeking any assistance. Ron nodded, indicating that he would be more than willing to speak strategy on Draco's behalf.

"I have with me my trusted strategist and general, Ronald Weasley," Draco said, introducing the red haired wizard to the Dwarf Lord, "He will be more than capably of conveying the needs of Ceolwulf, King of Rohan, while still supporting your forces to the uttermost."

The grim dwarf nodded, before turning to Ron, who swallowed once after a brief bow of respect, and approached the war plans upon the table before the seat which the King had taken.

"Sire," he began, and Draco was further impressed to learn that the Weasley family had indeed taught all their children the proper codes of conduct that pureblood wizards had been renowned for generations of possessing. Their honor to their blood was far greater than any wished to give them credit, merely because of their lack of wealth.

"From what I can gather your strategy in placing your warriors is sound. Our force will do nothing but compliment you existing army, nearly regardless where you place us. I feel, and from what I've seen of the terrain, that we would be most effective therefore, if our wizarding force stays toward the rear, on this elevated ridge here." Ron indicated a portion that was behind the main dwarven force, yet still dead center and facing the mountain.

"From that vantage point we can cast our spells freely down into the gulf as your warrior charge from all sides, letting us pick off stranglers and blast the walls of their fortress. We can open a path so that you may storm Gundabad and take what was once rightfully your back once and for all."

Náin stroked his beard thoughtfully for a moment, considering, "A sound, yet simply strategy Lord _Telcontar_ ," he said, glancing around at his other advisors and fellow Dwarf Lords, who were all nodding their agreement. "We should strike as soon as your army is assembled," Ron continued, looking between the Dwarf King and Draco for permission to voice his opinion, "the longer we give the orcs time to prepare is more that we must contend with before the day is won."

"This is true, however," Náin said, rising and striding to the table and battle map, "Orcs bear no love of sunlight, and my men are tired from their long march from Erebor. A few hours will do little to harm us compared to the advantage in daylight that we will have."

Draco glanced at Faykan, who was somberly standing still, neither agreeing with Náin nor disagreeing. Why wasn't he helping them? "Would it do more harm if we at least get into position before waiting out the sun?" Draco asked, turning back to the Lord of Moria."Or are your warriors simply too tired to be fighting at all this day?"

"Bah!" the Dwarf king said hotly, "The warriors of Durin never tire from fighting their orcish foes, we will be more than ready when the day comes full. But if your men and wizards are so shaky that they need to be ready then by all means take up your position Lord _Telcontar_."

Draco knew that they were being dismissed, and bowed, departing with Faykan and Ron in tow. Once they were outside the tent Draco rounded on Faykan, "Why didn't you help us in there?" he asked as they moved back toward the Rohirrim wizards.

"Whatever I could have said in advice or counsel would have been no more than a hindrance when it came to Náin. He has no love left in his heart for those other than his own kin, and I and those like me have been, to him, traitors and deserters for ages upon ages. He would no sooner listen to me than allowed you to sit upon his own throne." Faykan said soberly. Frowning somewhat he continued, "The alliances of the dwarves have become somewhat stressed as of late, and Ceolwulf's lack of desire to commit warriors to this fight was proof of that."

Ron nodded, "The King is most assured of his own tactics. I could see some in there stiffen as I approached their battle plans, as if they were angered that I might even attempt to alter them. Granted, there is little that I found flawed there regardless, but I do fear for their race if they cannot curb their stubborn necks."

"Long and proud have been the stubborn race of the dwarves," Faykan agreed, "and longer still have been their need to stand alone against their foes. Very few times has the hand of fellowship been truly extended to the line of Durin, and fewer still has it been accepted, but as you can see, they are not without honor, and will accept aid when they feel the need for it. Patience I urge, when it comes to King Náin, in time he will see the strength that will come with alliance with the free men of the West, or at the worst his folly will place a new King on the throne, and we may have better chances with him, regardless of which of his nephews is chosen."

It took scantly a few hours for their band of wizards and their guards to mount the ridge where they had a clear sight all the way down to the very crags that formed the gates of Gundabad. The men and women milled about, waiting for the sun to rise fully and the armies of the dwarves to ascend from their camps to march on the mountain.

Draco shifted anxiously. They were well in view of the mountain fortress, and no doubt the orcs within had seen their small company. Only the knowledge that there were legions of dwarves just beyond them seemed to keep the hordes from surging forth to destroy them, and that was not the best of feelings.

Once the sun was high in the sky, Draco turned about to face the east, where the dwarven camp was located. There was a great dust storm being kicked up as the tens of thousands of warrior surged to gather their arms and armor, and the blasting of ram's horns soon filled the air as the sons of Durin marshaled for battle at last.

"So it begins," Draco breathed, as the first of a long line of grim dwarvish warriors started to ascend the ridge around them, clad in iron and gripping broad axes in their hands. Tightening his grip on his wand, Draco turned to see the first of the Gundabad orcs emerge from their lair, screaming challenges and oaths of death as they swarmed out to create a defensive perimeter around their fortress.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Voldemort watched the ensuing battle of Gundabad from his enchanted mirror. He was pleased that the vanguard of Potter's band of rebels was present, as that meant that the boy was abroad, unable to answer any other calls for aid when the Dark Lord of the earth struck out at his other allies here in Britain.

Let the fools fight; they had no idea the scope of the Dark Lord's power, nor the reach of his arm. Even as they fought upon the mountains of the north, he would move more of his forces in the south to plunder and destroy, and enslave those peoples that once answered to the call of Shadow.

' _Sweep over the East, and return to the fold the peoples of Rhûn, the seafarers of Umbar, and the roving bands of Harad. These had tasted of the power of Mordor once before, they shall gladly take to it once again…_ ' hissed the presence of the ring upon his finger, guiding him in paths that he had already considered.

The men of the east and south had long believed themselves free from the greater powers that ruled them, but soon they would learn the truth. Once enlisted in the armies of darkness, one was never free. You were to serve until the dying breath, and then your sons and daughters would pick up the sword when you fell and continue. Such was the fate of those lesser beings.

Smirking to himself, Voldemort sent the command out to his forces in the south, before returning to watch the fools in their battle. They may triumph on this field for a day, but against his power that was arising, there was no victory.

 _dae en' i' goth naara ed' i' kalina en' i' valar : shadow of the enemy burn by the light of the archangels_


	7. Chapter 6

**Another dosage of our wonderful friends is here, my readers! Oh what fun awaits... *skims chapter* oh... fun may not have been the best word choice then... Well, you'll have to actually read for yourself to find out I guess. Leave a review, save a writer! many thanks to you all.**

 **Chapter Six**

 **Terror of the Ancients**

Harry immediately left Hermione in the main hall of Orthanc, wanting to be on his own for a short while to think of what was to come. He knew that they really ought to head out and join up with Faykan and the others at Gundabad, but he just didn't fell up to another battle so soon. He was growing quite weary of the constant movement this year, how they had little no to time to stop, and importantly for Harry to settle into his new role as one of the Istari.

Wandering up to the very pinnacle of Orthanc, Harry understood why it was Faykan's favorite location. The grand view of the country for miles in all directions allowed them to project their thoughts outward and meditate on the beauty of _Arda_ , which in turn gave him the peace he needed to settle his own inner turmoil. It was there, upon the height of the black stone tower, that Harry felt warmth spread up his hand. Looking down, he studied little _Vilya_ on his hand.

It had felt like such a long time since he had received the ring of power from the Lord Elrond Half-elven, nearly three years ago, and he had never taken the opportunity to really understand what it was capable of. From history, he knew it was the greatest of the three elven rings, once worn by the Ñoldorin elf, Gil-galad.

A bird flew up past Harry, momentarily distracting him, and suddenly his mind transported away from the fords of Isen. Over hill and vale, past forest and mountain he flew, transported upon sight that existed beyond his natural eyes. Somewhere far to the south, something of the enemy moved upon lands that were not its own.

Harry saw, through the eyes of a large bird as it flew overhead, a small army of black figures descended upon a desert village, and it angered him. This was not right, the battle lay to the north, what were these doing? Out of his view, Harry felt _Vilya_ burn again, magic demanding to be used to protect.

Harry wasn't sure what he was to do, but he spoke regardless, extending his influence over the very elements of the desert landscape to defend the innocent. " _Sul ar' litse en' i' arda, ona varna i' gwaith en' i' kemen_!" the boy Istari declared, and watched from his bird's eye perspective as a sandstorm was kicked up on the word of his command.

The black dots that he knew were the hosts of Mordor scattered and fled as the storm raged outward, forming a powerful bulwark around the little village, before his vision shifted again, seeing the same scene again as village after village was set upon, and the power and might of the Elven ring gave him the strength to invoke powerful magic of protection and defense over as many as he could, proclaiming his right as one of the servants of the _Valar_ to serve and keep safe the peoples of the earth. He still grieved each time he could not save a village, and their peoples were slain or dragged away captive by the servants of Darkness.

Each defeat drove him on to push harder, and work stronger magic, until at last he felt the pressure in his mind ease. The last of the raids were resolved. Out of the dozens that were attacked, he had saved well over half, but the enemy still left its impression on the ones that were now gone forever.

Harry's vision swam again, flying northward and to the east now, to the northern parts of Britain, until he felt a powerful and evil mind touch with his own. Voldemort laughed, trying to reach through their connection and learn where Harry was. ' _You cannot hide_ ,' he said through their connection in Harry's scar, which burned mightily as Harry fought to keep the Dark one from seeing through his own eyes. Voldemort continued to taunt, attempting to provoke Harry into a rage that would weaken his mental defenses, ' _There is no light, in the void! Only death..._ '

Pure radient power surged through Harry, as once more the blue stoned ring on his finger burned, and Voldemort hastily withdrew his attempts to attack his mind. _'Voldemort!'_ Harry cried mentally, throwing all the venom at the Dark Lord that he could muster. _'You're power in this world is nearing its end!'_ Harry bellowed, to which the Dark Lord laughed him to scorn. Harry's mind swam again, more painfully than before, until he saw the northern battle, and the armies of the dwarves surging down to fight their hated foes. But Voldemort was laughing, knowing of something else, dark and menacing lurked just beyond, ready to consume them all. Shadow and flame roared in Harry's mind, before he dragged himself away from the Dark Lord's mind. ' _A_ _gh burzum-ishi krimpatul_ _..._ ' Voldemort managed to chant once before Harry finally removed himself from touching the Dark Lord's mind, and returned to his body at Orthanc.

When he opened his eyes, he was still standing atop the highest point of the tower, staff in hand as he faced southward. Had he been truly casting his spells over so long a distance?

He felt tired, more so than he had in the longest time, but it was more of a mental weariness than physical exhaustion. Alas, his time at work was only just beginning, and with this new knowledge of Voldemort's cruelty burning in his heart, Harry knew that he needed to bring reinforcements to the battle for whatever evil was coming for the dwarves and his friends.

"Hermione!" he cried, as he sprinted down the tower, and she looked scared and concerned by the frantic tone of his voice, "We need to go now!" he said in a rush, taking her hand and dragging her in his haste to exit Orthanc.

"I... but... we... go where?" she said, struggling to keep up with Harry's magically increased strides.

He thought hard, who could they turn to for assistance in this desperate hour? "The Beornings!" he said triumphantly as the thought struck him, and before Hermione could so much a yelp in protest, he turned on the spot and apparated away to the home of the skin-changers. They were now the Lights only hope.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco was starting to feel the magical strain, as he fired spell after spell, cutting down waves of charging orcs as the foul, black beasts tried to assault their position for roughly the seventh time since the battle started.

The dwarves were gaining ground, their initial charge aided by a bombardment of magic that shattered the front lines of the orcs, but even still the hideous creatures managed time and again to break through and scramble up the sides of the ridge to attempt to slay the wizards.

At their forefront stood Faykan, poised over the ridge with staff in hand, eyes closed as he chanted some spell or another. Draco fired another concussive spell into a knot of orcs attempting to drag a dwarven warrior from his ram mount, causing an explosion that sent the creatures flying in all directions.

" _Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!_ " a shout went up from all around, and Draco turned, seeing the King of the Dwarves, surrounded by his elite guards and fellow Dwarf-Lords, charge down into the fray, shouting as they went. The dwarves rallied once more at the approach of their king, and pressed more boldly against the lines of Gundabad orcs. A group of wizards started peppering the path ahead of the Mountain King with spells, opening a causeway through the melee for the Lord of Moria to reach the very center of the battle.

"To the King! To the King!" the dwarves yelled, assaulting the orcs on every side, even as they were answered by Náin and his shout of, "To battle!"

The orcs fell back, pressed almost to their terrible gates of the mountain, just as Faykan's eyes opened, with a blinding radience to them. Staff swung downward to point directly at the gates of Gundabad, and words of power surged from his lips.

A beam of pure white energy ruptured out of the shimmering sapphire, flying across the battlefield, past dwarf and orc alike, and slammed into the stone of Gundabad itself, shattering stone and metal with a sickening crash. The mountainside exploded outward, raining shrapnel and boulders upon the combatants, while a massive breach in the mountain was unveiled.

A cheer went up from the dwarves and wizards, as the way was opened for the mountain to be taken. But a bellowing roar silenced them all. All eyes, both orc, dwarve and man, turned to the hole into the mountain as something thundered its way to the surface.

Draco shuddered as he recognized the inhuman sound, saw the smoke pour from the wound in the mountain, saw the fire and felt the hatred surge from the beast within the mountain.

Dwarves screamed in fright, the men shrank back as a being rose from the mountainside, composed of Fire and Shadow. Standing well over twice the size of a man, the creature reeked of death and fear, and carried weapons of flame in its hands.

"Durin's Bane returns!" many voices cried from the dwarves, while the men unconsciously shrank closer to Faykan.

"What is this new devilry?" someone asked, and Draco turned to Faykan, whose face had gone pearly white.

"A Balrog..." he answered quietly, "a demon of the ancient world..." the men on all side muttered in fear, wondering what they must do.

"This foe is beyond any of you..." Faykan said, almost casually, and he took a step forward, drawing Glamdring from its scabbard.

Down in the valley, Náin was trying to rally his forces, but the Balrog leapt into the air, momentarily blocking out the sun, and crashing upon the vanguard of the dwarven king. The dwarves stood no chance against the towering behemoth of flame. Warriors were sent flying in all directions until the Balrog towered over King Náin.

"NO!" Faykan yelled, dashing toward the demon of shadow and flames, Glamdring flashing in his hand as the sword of Gondolin reacted to the presence of an ancient foe of the elves. The Balrog turned at the yell, which gave the dwarf king a moment that he could have run for cover, but the stubborn King used the opportunity to attack the Balrog.

The Balrog didn't even flinch as the dwarf-made axe dug deeply into the shadowy body. Refocusing back on Náin, the Balrog slashed viciously with his fiery weapon, knocking the King flying before turning back to the approaching Istari.

Faykan slid to a halt a short way from the Balrog, throwing his arms wide with staff and sword aloft. "Go back to the Abyss!" the Istari commanded, and Draco heard those nearest to him gasp and the Balrog reared to its full height in anger. All around the dwarves were retreating, with a knot of elite warriors carrying their King, while the orcs fled behind the Balrog, opening a wide berth around the two Maiar.

The Balrog took a massive step forward, to which Faykan responded by brandishing Glamdring, "You cannot pass!" he yelled, raising his staff aloft, and conjuring a powerful shield around him. Draco could feel the magic pouring off the Istari from the ridge, and quivered at the strength being exhibited.

Flaming sword crashed upon the shield, and Draco shielded his eyes from the explosion of light as the shield withstood the crushing blow. Faykan yelled as his shield dissipated, but remained on his feet. The Balrog fell back a step, but roared its challenge at the smaller Istari.

"You shall not pass!" Faykan screamed, slamming his staff into the ground before him, while the jewel flared into blinding white. In fact, Draco had to blink his eyes to make sure he was seeing correctly, but Faykan's entire body started to shine with power, while the levels of magic started growing to an uncomfortable level.

"I will not allow you to harm another living creature, servant of Morgoth!" Faykan bellowed, his voice radiating power. "Behold the power of the servants of the Valar!" Faykan spoke, and his body was consumed by the blinding light, before starting to grow, swelling to the same size of the Balrog, only composed of light and lightning as opposed to the Balrog's fire and shadows.

The Balrog issued a challenging roar and threw himself at Faykan, who bellowed in response. Draco could only stand there, with Ron and the others as the full might of an Istari was unleashed, and the Balrog of light grappled with the one of shadows. Flame whip and Glamdring flashed and collided as they battled between the two armies.

The dark Balrog struck Faykan across the head, before kicked out to knock the empowered Istari away. Draco shivered as clouds started to gather and Faykan swung Glamdring through the air, causing lightning to spark and flash off the blade. The Balrog leapt at Faykan, who ducked his blow before stabbing with Glamdring, unleashing a torrent of lightning into the burning body.

The Balrog was flung backward, crashing into the stones of the mountain, and Faykan's form stood over it, "Fallen one!" he bellowed, voice resonating his power and authority, "You and your brethren abandoned your duty to follow Melkor the Morgoth, and for this treachery, you will pay the ultimate price!"

Faykan's eyes, already blue white with power, exploded brighter than ever, and from his hand wielding Glamdring a crimson light flashed, and he brought the sword of Gondolin down with a flash.

The Balrog of shadow roared in pain, and the flames died in an instant, before exploding and throwing Faykan across the valley, back toward the lines of dwarves. The Balrog of light shimmered as power faded from it, reverting back to Faykan's normal, seventeen year old form, and he staggered, falling to his knees from weariness.

Draco thought the day was won by the fall of the dark Balrog, but soon the armies of the orcs started to rally and surge forward again, and he gasped when he realized that Faykan was right in their path, weakened and possibly hurt.

"Fay!" he yelled, started to run forward, even as the dwarven armies surged to meet the orcs once again. It seemed that they wouldn't be able to reach Faykan before the orcs, when a massive blast shook the entire mountainside. "Attack! For the sons of Durin, attack!" bellowed a familiar voice.

Draco turned, just in time to see Harry and Hermione as the former charged into battle at the head of a small army of Beornings. The skin-changers crashed into the opening waves of orcs, buying Harry enough time to reach Faykan. The black haired boy hefted his friend into his arms and began pushing back through the advancing dwarves to Draco.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione ran to Draco, among the contingent of human wizards, "Draco!" she called, panting as she skidded to a halt.

"Hermione," he replied, turning momentarily to her, "What do we need to do?" he questioned immediately.

"Press the attack," she said, holding a catch in her side. "Without the darkness of the Balrog they haven't a chance."

Draco nodded, before throwing out a hand toward the battle, signaling a bombardment from the surrounding wizards down on the breach in the mountain, from where hordes of orcs were retreating for cover.

Dwarves thundered into the fray behind the onslaught of the Beornings, but Hermione's attention was drawn to the crop of black hair that was pushing its way toward them. Harry, still carrying the unconscious Faykan, along with the boy's staff and _Glamdring_ , stumbled up the last part of the ridge to them, struggling with carrying his friend as well as the weapons. Hermione took hold of the sapphire staff, while Ron came up and carefully took the elf blade, allowing Harry to shift Faykan's weight.

"We need to get Faykan away from here," Ron said, looking from their friends to the battle out across the valley, "the others can take the mountain without us easily enough. We've done our part, and Faykan ought to be the priority here…"

"I must remain," Harry said, "but you're right, Fay is too weak to remain here."

For once, Hermione wasn't upset that they were being sent away. Seeing the massive orcs as they slammed full force into the dwarven warrior was enough to unnerve even her. Wordlessly they accepted the portkey to transport them back to Orthanc, and together Hermione, Ron and Draco did what they could to stabilize Faykan's body as they traveled.

They landed on the pinnacle of Orthanc, both Ron and Draco took Faykan's shoulders and legs, and carefully they carried the boy Istari down to the master's room of the tower. As they laid Faykan upon him bed, Hermione carefully arranged the boy's head and limbs to prevent him from developing cramps when he did wake up. "How did this happen?" she asked confused.

When she and Harry had arrived, they saw the massive creatures of Light and Shadow, fighting each other until the being of light overcame the one of darkness, and transformed back into Faykan.

"It was a Balrog," Draco explained quickly, setting _Glamdring_ and Faykan's staff to the side of the bed, "it emerged from the mountain when Faykan blasted it open, set upon the dwarves, and Faykan charged in to fight it."

"But, why did it take so much out of Faykan?" Hermione persisted, "Isn't it just another creature of our world? He's never had difficulty with any opponent before…"

"This wasn't the same," Draco continued, "the Balrog was not of this world, but a being like Faykan is, so it took almost all his power and energy to fight it."

They stood quietly for a moment, and Hermione let the concept of another being like Faykan sink in. She hadn't really considered that there could be others likes Faykan still in the world, especially after learning that the other Istari had either been slain or departed from _Arda_. For there to be even more, still around today, it was a frightening thought.

"And so this other one was evil, then?" she said softly.

"Thankfully, Faykan had tools to help overcome the Balrog, or else it would have quite possible been the end of them both." Draco replied.

"We ought to rest," Ron said, acting as the voice of reason, "It's been a long day, and Harry will be back soon. You may as well fill us in on what happened at Grimmauld Place Hermione, while we wait for him and the others to return."

Hermione nodded, after the day's events, a good rest sounded ideal.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry waded through the battlefield, _Hadhafang_ cleaving streams of black orc blood as he moved toward the gaping hole in the mountainside. The Balrog of Morgoth, its body still smoking with heat and lingering traces of fire, lay collapsed at the side of the gaping maw of the mountain, like a fallen guardian to the lower halls.

The Beornings would not enter the mountain depths, but stood as sentinels on either side, cleaving down orcs as they attempted to flee further inside. The dwarves held no such qualms about venturing into the mountain, and were pouring in like ants swarming a rival hive. Harry was about to enter himself, when a nearby Dwarf-lord called to him.

"Lord _Calenrohtar_ , King Náin is summoning you…" Harry turned, and seeing the downcast expression on the warrior's face, obliged, allowing himself to be directed away from the front lines and back toward a hastily erected medical tent, where the King lay surrounded by his closest kin. Thráin of Erebor and Borin were there, along with many of their cousins, and they all turned as Harry approached.

"Is it the Istari," the King said weakly as his family parted, allowing Harry to see the old King, lying on what would soon be his deathbed. The old Dwarf was mortally wounded, cut deeply across the chest and belly, and scorched where the flames of the Balrog had touched him, but was clinging to life as desperately as any.

"Lord _Calenrohtar_ …" Náin said shakily, fighting for breath between words, "You and Lord Alatar have fought honorably this day… Pray tell me that my people are safe from the dark power?"

"Yes," Harry affirmed, "the Balrog is slain, although Faykan had to be removed from the battlefield afterward."

"Lord Alatar is still alive I hope…" Náin asked, struggling against the wheezing cough that was slowly developing in the old King.

"He'll survive," Harry said confidently.

The old Dwarf smiled slightly, before turning his head back to his family, and beckoning them with his hand. "Thráin," he said weakly, and Harry saw the Lord of Erebor step forward grimly, "You must take up the leadership of our people my nephew, you are eldest, and I trust that you will lead the sons of Durin into a new golden age, with the return of the Kings of men. You shall be King, Under the Mountain…"

"I understand, Uncle," Thráin replied, bowing his head humbly. Náin turned to a much younger dwarf, "Fundin, You shall take my place as Lord of Moria when I am gone, your mother, my youngest sister, would have wanted it so…"

"Yes, Uncle," the younger dwarf said, tears forming as he watched a favored relative dying before him. Náin turned back to Harry at that point, "I wish that Lord Alatar was here, as I have much to answer for, and to ask forgiveness of him. I was brash, hotheaded and refused his counsel when he did not have to give it. Alatar has always had the best interests of our people in mind, even when I did not."

Náin groaned, trying to settle more comfortably, "Tell him… tell him…" he said, growing weaker, "Tell him… I'm sorry…"

"I will," Harry said.

Náin seemed to relax, and closed his eyes, before giving a massive sigh, and moved no more. "Uncle?" one of the dwarves said, even as Thráin touched the old King, "Uncle?"

"He's gone," Thráin said sadly, "the King is dead…"

Harry stood toward the rear of the tent, allowing the family their time to mourn the loss of their relative.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Voldemort scowled as he watched the destruction of Gundabad. The useless animals could even slaughter a weakened Istari. Even the Balrog entombed within the mountain wasn't capable of doing more than killing the Dwarf King, which was worthless with all the short person's relatives. They would simply choose a new King and move on.

A total failure all around; even the raid in the east and south were only partially successful at best, with Potter countering many of them with his vile new powers. It boiled the Dark Lord's blood to know that the boy had been gifted with power in copious amounts, power that he himself had worked and scraped to gain over his lifetime.

No one had the right to hold that much power, except for the Lord of the Earth, Voldemort, and that counted double for the Potter brat. From the mental connection that they shared, Voldemort knew a rough location of where the boy was hiding, but there was a Fidelius charm hiding the exact place. Nevertheless, the Dark Lord would update his assassins of the location, and allow the Dark Creatures to fulfill their orders.

But still, there was something wrong about how suddenly Potter came into his powers. It didn't add up for the boy to be so weak when he fought Dumbledore and this Lord Alatar in the Ministry, and only a year later for the child to be throwing magic around like a plaything.

If only he still had access to the Black libraries. Their records were the most complete of any pureblood family he had seen, which was why Tom Riddle had been so keen to befriend the heirs of that family. Nevertheless, there were other families with records of other powerful wizards, and how they had come into their power.

The Lord Voldemort would discover the secret; nothing about the magical world would ever stay hidden from him for long. In the end all the power in the world would come to his hand, and he would rule without opposition.

Abandoning the magical mirror, Voldemort turned instead to wander the halls of Malfoy's spacious manor, making his way to the library there. Inside, he found the one he was searching for. "Dear Bella," he purred, smiling inwardly as the mad witch turned with the look of an excited dog at the sound of his voice.

"Yes, my Lord?" he said, desire to please him obvious in her voice.

"Bellatrix," he continued, not listening to her simpering, "I require knowledge from the Black library, however our enemies have control on the Black family home."

"What would you have me do my Lord?" Bellatrix replied, bowing slightly, hunger to please in her eyes.

"I need the tomes that speak of the earliest appearance of Istari, especially those histories that have their dealings with powerful Lords and Ladies of the magical world." The Dark Lord commanded.

"I will do as you command my Lord," Bellatrix replied, "No matter what it takes, I'll find a way."

Lord Voldemort smiled, "I know you will," he said in a hushed voice, watching as the obsessed witch reacted instinctively to his attention.

Once the Dark Lord understood what was happening with Potter and this Istari, Alatar, all the quicker he would know how to destroy them, and with them all hope the world had would fail.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Several weeks after the battle of Gundabad past, and Faykan still hadn't awaken. Draco felt like he was going to go crazy with the effectual free time after so long jumping from battle to battle. There were so many times that he would hear small noises and want to spring into action, just to realize that it was something harmless.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were feeling the effects as well. From what he heard from Ron, Hermione was having traumatic nightmares from the heat of battle, while Ron himself was becoming increasingly irritable and restless, much like Draco.

Harry seemed more in control of himself, but at the same time he was withdrawing himself from them more and more, seeming to slip into his own little word at the strangest times. Draco knew that they ought to be pulling themselves together to accomplish something, but it was hard for them to feel motivated without Faykan.

Late in August, Draco finally had had enough of sitting around doing nothing. They were all down in the main chamber when Harry appeared from checking on Faykan.

"How is he?" Hermione asked, to which Harry just shook his head. "He's still the same; no response."

Draco slammed his hands on the arms of his chair, standing sharply, "I can't stand all this waiting around; we need to do something!"

"But what can we do?" Hermione said meekly, "Without Fay…"

"We've done things without Fay before!" Draco countered, "Umbridge has one of the Horcruxes, and she's in the Ministry, how hard could it be to plan a break in to get it off her?"

"With Voldemort in charge of the Ministry and Death Eaters in every Department, much harder than you think Draco…" Harry countered.

"I don't care!" Draco bellowed, "Voldemort is out there destroying the world, and we need to move forward in defeating him!"

"But…" Hermione started.

"Draco… is right…" came a voice from the stairs behind them

"Faykan!" they all cried, turning to see the boy up and walking, albeit limping and looking in great pain just to stand. Harry leapt up instantly to help his best friend down to the ground floor.

"We need to be planning the counter attack on the Ministry," Faykan said, speaking slowly and holding himself carefully to prevent too much jarring as he moved. "It won't be long before Voldemort attacks again, and we need to push our every advantage. A defensive war is not going to work against the madman. But in this condition I won't be too much help with the planning if you want me to assist with its execution in any way."

"Right," Hermione said, standing slowly and removing dust from herself, "We'll need surveillance on the Ministry to find a weakness we can exploit to get inside. From there it's all a matter of making sure that we get in and out without attracting unwanted attention."

"I can get the surveillance via the _Crebain_ ," Harry said, starting to lead Faykan back to the stairs, "but first you need to return to bed, you're still too weak to do much of help at the moment."

Faykan huffed at the babying manner that Harry adopted, but went along without complaint. "So, will we be infiltrating or assaulting?" Ron asked, approaching Hermione. As they started to strategize plans and contingencies, Draco took the moment to observe the ignited fire that had sparked in them all once Faykan had reawakened.

It was as thought a light had burst suddenly into flame again, some fire from within that motivated them all to fight on that just wasn't the same without the young-appearing Istari. It was like some magic that only Faykan possessed.

They each had their own special talents that they brought to the group, but it seemed as though Faykan was their heart, uniting them in a common goal and under the same banner.

Whatever the strange occurrence, Draco had accomplished what he set for, and now they had purpose again. For the next three weeks they worked with a burning desire, preparing and planning for any occurrence, and for whatever they may encounter inside. From what it seemed that Ron and Hermione's were scheming, the Ministry wouldn't know what hit it when they were finished.

In the meantime, word came from Bode out of the Department of Mysteries, which was still holding strong against the rest of the corruption in the Voldemort controlled Ministry. Professor Snape had been confirmed as the Ministry's choice to become the new Headmaster of Hogwarts. The Unspeakable had included with his report a cutting from the most recent edition of the ' _Daily Prophet_ ,' which had a small article dedicated to the story.

' _Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed Headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor_.'

After reading it, Hermione had shot to her feet, "This changes everything!" she declared, rounding on Mr. Bode, "We can use the Department of Mysteries to enter the Ministry correct?" she asked hurriedly.

Bode paused, "Yes it would be a backdoor inside, if you needed that sort of a route… but why would you of all people want to get _inside_ the Ministry?"

"Many reasons, all relevant to winning the war Broderick." Harry explained quickly before returning his attention to Hermione, "A complete reworking of the invasion plan I presume?"

Hermione nodded, "We need to go back to Grimmauld Place also, there's something there we can use to contact Professor Snape. More intelligence inside Hogwarts could only help us."

"All right, we can go now," Harry said, reaching for her. Hermione took his hand and in a flash they were gone.

"Sometimes I just can't understand how that girl's mind works…" Ron said weakly, shaking his head.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione sprinted away from Harry the moment they landed in Grimmauld place, ignoring the raving of Mrs. Black or Kreacher call for no running in the halls. She knew exactly where she needed to go. If all routes for information into Hogwarts were blocked by student means, she knew that any openings would lie with the Headmaster. And with Professor Snape in the office now, they had a surefire method to communicate back and forth.

Storming into the bedroom that Harry, Faykan and Ron had shared for slightly over a year, she turned to the painting of Phineas Nigellus Black that was hanging there. "You there, girl," he said as the Slytherin Headmaster spotted her, "I have a message for you and your friends from Headmaster Severus Snape."

Hermione smiled, having expected this. The Death Eaters had expected them to hide out in the Black family home, and they had the Order circulating the rumor to their advantage. "I figured the Professor would attempt this method before we even thought of it." Hermione said, "I'll take you back to the others, so you can deliver Professor Snape's message to us all."

Taking the portrait down from the wall, Hermione hurried to return to Harry, but a resounding crash echoed through the house, followed by some sickeningly familiar laughter.

"It is so good to be home!" cackled Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Hermione! Run!" Harry yelled, and she heard the blast of spell fire. As she ran for the farthest room from the battle, Hermione wondered how the mad witch could have gotten past the Fidelius Charm.

 _sul ar' litse en' i' arda, ona varna i' gwaith en' i' kemen : wind and sand of the world, gift safe the people of the earth_

 _Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!_ _: The axes of the dwarves! The dwarves are upon you!_


	8. Chapter 7

**You know... I was about to shut down my computer at nearly 11pm, when I felt a nagging something that I had forgotten something... checked my Remeberall and low and behold, red smoke... then I noticed it was Tuesday, and I hadn't posted yet... yeah, good thing that huh? enjoy!**

 **Chapter Seven**

 **Heart of Corruption**

Bellatrix cackled as he dodged a blast from Potter's wand, even as the violent spell struck the lesser Death Eater behind her. Entering the old family manor had proven far too easy, despite the enchantments that had been placed upon it by Dumbledore and others, the old blood magic that tied the Blacks together was able to override any attempts to hide the building from Bellatrix, making her in effect a secret keeper for Grimmauld Place. And she was more than willing to bring many friends with her to clear out anyone hiding in her family's home and liberate the books her Master required.

Finding Potter himself and his little Mudblood here was just a bonus, but one that she full intended to capitalize upon. Let the little girl run, there was no escape. Firing a dark bone breaker at Potter, Bellatrix charged into the house, the Dark Lord's followers surging in behind her.

Potter was quicker however, and simply sidestepped the spell, responding with a flash of light which shook the very foundation of the house. Bellatrix staggered, and there was a crack of apparition. Wildly she looked around for the new fighter, but there was only an old house elf beside Potter.

"Master called for Kreacher?" the filthy thing said with a bow.

"Kreacher, these uninvited intruders serve the man who murdered Master Regulus. I know that Miss Bella is family, but she approves of the man who killed your favorite Master. They must be removed from this house."

To Bella's great surprise, the elf turned on her and the Death Eaters with fire in its massive eyes. "Yes Master," the little elf responded obediently.

Snarling in disgust, Bella slashed her wand. Potter and one house elf wouldn't stop her from her goal. Pressing the attack, Bellatrix was stopped short by the powerful shield that Potter conjured. As much as she hated the boy, she had to give him credit as a powerful caster of defensive magic. But it would not save him from her wrath.

Drawing on her newfound powers, Bellatrix cackled as the shadows of the ancient house stared to bend and warp themselves, forming long seeking tendrils of magical power. Cackling in the throes of such power, Bellatrix thrust her wand forward, commanding the shadow magic to attack her enemies.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry watched the shadows of Grimmauld Place come to life, and warp on Bellatrix's command, seeking to drown him and Kreacher in darkness. In a flash, his wand revealed its true form, and from the massive emerald a shield of brilliant light surged forth to combat the darkness.

Kreacher stood beside him, gaping in slight amazement, watching the powers of light and darkness battle before him. Harry knew that he had the power to enter and leave the house at will, as he was rightfully head of the Black Family, thanks to Sirius' will, but Hermione could not, and their only reliable escape was blocked by the Death Eaters. "Kreacher!" he commanded, getting the elf's attention, I order you to take Hermione back to Faykan, get her out of here safely!"

There were tears in the little elf's eyes, clearly concerned over Harry's own safety, but he obeyed, disapparating with a sharp crack.

Bellatrix laughed again, "The Mudblood may escape for now, wee Potter, but you are finished here!"

The surrounding five Death Eaters fired spells of their own, striving to weaken the powerful elf-magic shield that Harry had woven around himself, and allowing Bellatrix's shadow magic to consume him. Even within the wall of light and warmth Harry could feel the chill, similar in feeling to the presence of a Dementor without the pain of memories.

It would have been a problem for Harry, if he was remaining on the defensive only. Throwing his arms outward, Harry silently commanded his shield to expand, banishing the shadows and throwing several launched spells back toward the Death Eaters who cast them, and more importantly giving Harry time to counterattack.

Leveling his staff at Bellatrix, Harry unleashed a barrage of formless magic, taking the form of lightning and fire. The mad witch was forced to discontinue her shadow spell to dodge, but the poor fools behind here weren't so lucky. Three more were incinerated within moments.

Harry turned to withdraw to a point where he could apparate safely, but stumbled as a long whip-like cord snaked around his ankle. Bellatrix smirked, jerking back on her wand as the transfigured end went taught, dragging Harry out of his stable position.

Kreacher reappeared with a explosive crack, banishing the Death Eaters backward and freeing Harry, "Run Master, Kreacher will hold the invaders off."

"Kreacher…" Harry said, stunned at the elf's turn of loyalty to him over even Bellatrix.

"Go Master!" Kreacher repeated, snapping his fingers to awaken all the portraits in the hall. Mrs. Black wailed in outrage at the damage to her home, causing many to cover their ears at her shrieks.

"Thank you Kreacher…" Harry said, tears glistening in his eyes, and he ran through the door to the kitchen, turning on the spot and teleporting quickly back to Orthanc. Landing in the main hall of the tower, Harry felt a surge of magic accompanying a cry of pain that sounded like Kreacher. Closing his eyes, he silently mourned the death of the little elf that had done so much for them over the short time they had known him.

Grimmauld Place may be lost, but they had retrieved all that they needed from there. There would be time enough to reclaim it, and avenge Kreacher.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione watched Harry for the last few days before their deadline of entering the Ministry. From the Portrait of Headmaster Black, they learned that, while Severus was indeed currently Headmaster, the real power behind Voldemort's control of the school lay in the Carrow Twin and Theodore Nott himself, who were handing punishments out for any sort of resistance to the new administration.

Severus himself was doing what damage control he could, while secretly mustering new recruits for the D.A., which Neville, Luna and Ginny had reformed in secret. Thankfully, unlike Umbridge, the Carrows were rather dim, and for the moment didn't suspect a thing.

The news was reassuring, but still hard to take, with the thought of a Voldemort run Hogwarts. Harry immediately vowed that they would retake the school, but realistically Hermione didn't see that happening until they had destroyed the majority of the Horcruxes. Touching Hogwarts was sure to being down the full wrath of the Dark Lord, and they simply weren't ready to destroy him yet.

The Ministry, and the locket Horcrux was their only current lead, and that was what they needed to focus on. Faykan had finally recovered enough to walk under his own power, and was joining them often to finalize their attack plans. Hermione smirked when she noticed that the boy now was sporting a very thin, but rapidly growing beard. None of the others seemed to notice or care however, so she didn't comment.

Their plan was to enter the Ministry via the Department of Mysteries, which would be facilitated by Bode and the other Unspeakable that were on their side. From that point, under animagus forms or disguised, they would split into two teams: one headed by Harry who'd search for Umbridge and take the locket, and another by Faykan that would cause a disturbance to flush the woman out of hiding.

It was extremely risky, as there was no telling where the woman might be at any time, but they had little choice but to try their best. For disguises, Faykan and Harry could both transfigure themselves readily into the shapes of far older men, who'd be overlooked in any crowd with the aid of notice-me-not charms, while Hermione and Ron would take Polyjuice to resembled Unspeakables. Draco, with his small animagus form, could hide in a pocket or the bag that Hermione would bring with them, and work as scout and possible decoy if needed.

They knew that Death Eaters would be crawling all over the Ministry, but they had a job to do and there was no time for a full out battle to occur. When the time finally came, Broderick arrived at Orthanc with two vials of potion, and a small talisman that functioned as a Portket into the Department of Mysteries.

"This will take you directly to the Antechamber of the Department," he explained as he handed the pendant to Faykan, "From there you can simply ask the room to give you the exit, and it will open out into the Ministry proper."

"Thank you Broderick," Faykan replied solemnly.

"Be safe," the Unspeakable added, apparating away, presumable to make ready for their arrival.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, before quickly downing the vile tasting liquid. Even as they changed, Hermione could hear Faykan and Harry muttering spells to transfigure their clothing into proper sized red Unspeakable robes, and she silently thanked them for making sure that the garments weren't destroyed in the process of their changes.

When it was finally over, Hermione turned to look at Ron, who was a perfect copy of unspeakable Bode, who had just left them. "If you're Bode," she said, her voice gruff and very gravely, "then who am I?"

"Unspeakable Croaker," Faykan answered, "Another of our close allies, but he doesn't speak much so you don't have to worry about people questioning you, just stare at them and they should back down if your approached."

Harry nodded in agreement, "Alright, I'll take Ron and Hermione and searched the lower levels for Umbridge. With her new position as Voldemort's personal tormentor of the Muggleborns, I have a good guess that they'll be in the large, ancient courtrooms beneath the Ministry. The old toad would just love to lord over other people in those vile halls."

"Agreed," Faykan answered, "I'll take Draco and cause havoc in the Atrium, while he sniffs around the offices in case she's up there. With luck maybe a few Death Eaters will be caught in the mix, and there'll be less to worry about later."

"Still," Ron said, pausing as he adjusted to hearing his own new voice, "keep casualties to a minimum if you can."

"Oh, I won't harm anyone…" Faykan said with a Slytherin smirk, "I'm just thinking of an old specter of Umbridge's past paying a little visit to her place of work…"

Hermione widened her eyes at what Faykan was implying. The chaos caused by the boy in their fifth year would indeed play a perfect distraction for anyone who was unfortunate enough to be in the Atrium at the time he arrived there.

"Ready?" Harry asked, even as he brandished his wand and started transfiguring himself.

"Indeed," Faykan said, his own young form shifting into that of an old wizened man, long graying beard almost touching the ground.

"Activate!" Harry commanded, and the Portkey glowed a brilliant blue, whisking the five of them off to their mission.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco immediately shifted the moment they landed, flinching momentarily from the burst of sounds and smells that bombarded his ferret form. The Department of Mysteries held a strange assortment of these two senses that a human would either ignore or not notice, but as a ferret, Draco wondered momentarily what on earth the Unspeakables were up to.

Faykan scooped Draco up in his gnarled, ancient-seeming hands, and under a powerful notice-me-not charm, the two 'visitors' and their Unspeakable guides exited the Department.

Draco, from his strange vantage point from a robe pocket, recognized this hallway from their previous venture in the Ministry nearly two years ago, and figured that they were nearest to the level of the old courtrooms that Harry, Ron and Hermione were planning to investigate. Arriving at a 'T' juncture, the four still in human form looked at each other, nodded in agreement, and separated, Draco being carried along by Faykan as they made their way to the lifts.

The golden grills of the lift opened as they approached, releasing a few Ministry workers, but no one that Draco could recognize by sight or smell. Entering and hitting the button for the Atrium, Faykan withdrew Draco from his pocket, setting the little white ferret on the ground nearest the door, yet out of sight should someone enter on their way up.

As they clattered upward, there was a healthy flow of people on and off the lift, and it stopped at nearly every floor. It seemed that Faykan had expected this, and was waiting for the correct level on his way up.

"Level one, Minister of Magic and Support Staff." rang an annoying pleasant female voice in the lift. As the grills opened, Faykan subtly nudged Draco with his foot, sending the ferret stealthily skirting onto the floor. Even as he turned to watch, the grills were already closing again, as the lift continued on its way upward.

People were speaking all around him, but no one bothered to look down or notice the wiry body as Draco wove his way around people's feet. There was only a few places for him to check out here, one of which being Umbridge's office itself, and afterward return to the lift to rejoin Faykan in the Atrium.

Relying more on smell than sight, Draco passed door after door. Momentarily he wondered how, when he found the right door, he was going to get inside at all. Even if he did, it seemed highly unlikely that Umbridge would have left the Horcrux here, where anyone could find it, but that was not a risk that they were willing to take.

Darting around a corner, after barely dodging a long trail of parchment that was draging along the ground after a muttering wizard, who was too focused on dictating to his quill to even look around him, Draco found himself in a wide open space where dozens of witches and wizard were sitting in rows of small desks, very familiar to those back at Hogwarts. The effect was just sickening enough that Draco just knew that he was close.

The assembled wizards and witches were systematically waving their wands, causing squares of colored parchment to fly in every direction like organized confetti. Draco recognized the process that wizards assembled pamphlets.

As Draco sneaked nearer to try and satisfy a burst of curiosity to the contents of the pamphlets, he overheard one of the workers whisper to a nearby employee, "Will the old hag be interrogating Mudbloods all day, does anyone know?"

"Careful," the wizard beside her said, glancing around nervously; while one of his pages slipped to the floor. Draco darted over to it, looking over the cover with an angry twitch of his whiskers.

' _Mudbloods and the dangers they pose to a peaceful Pure-blood society_ ,' it read. Draco had no doubts as to the author, despite there being none named.

"Yeah," added another of the nearby witches, "I hear she's downstairs for a while at least, save us the hassle of her breathing down our necks."

"Enough," the wizard said again, "I hear she can get really nasty when she's mad, and who knows who she has bribed to rat out anything to her…"

The surrounding workers were clearly as terrified of the old bat as anyone back at Hogwarts had been, and Draco looked around quickly before he found the door to the woman's office. The small plaque in the center of the door read, ' _Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister_ ,' and a second, newer plaque below that one read on, ' _Head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission_.'

Nearly squeaking in rage, Draco looked quickly toward the bottom of the door. In luck, there was a sizeable gap along the bottom of the door, not big enough for humans to care about, but possibly just tall enough for a ferret to squeeze through, with effort.

Making certain that he was still unseen, Draco scampered over to the door, flattened himself to the ground as much as he could, stretched forward and began to squirm through the gap. Thanks to the creature that he was transformed as, Draco had more than enough ability to flatten himself further and further, a trait normally used to enter small burrow and capture prey, but in this case allowing the wizard to slip right under the door without a sound.

Making certain that no one outside had reacted, Draco returned to human form, shaking his head from the sudden loss of so many sensory abilities. Looking around at the office, he shook his head in disgust. It looked exactly like the woman's office back at Hogwarts: lace draperies, doilies, and dried flowers on every surface. The same hideous ornate plates lined the walls, each bearing a highly colored, beribboned kitten, each in a different act of sickening cuteness.

The desk was covered with a flouncy, flowered cloth. Looking around for the locket seemed that it would take too long, so Draco quickly withdrew his wand, " _accio_ locket." he said, unsurprised when nothing happened.

He was just about to set to manually searching the room when a resounding bang from above made the entire room quake. Looking up sharply, Draco almost laughed as he recognized Faykan's tell-tale sign of a distraction starting.

Knowing that his time was up, Draco was about to turn back to the door, when he heard hurried footsteps just on the other side. He only just managed to transform as the door burst open. Peering up from beneath Umbridge's desk, Draco watched the new Minister of Magic, Pius Thickness, as the man looked around wildly. The man was probably searching for his undersecretary, but in not finding her, he merely pointed his wand at a quill on the desk, which scribbled a note on a spare bit of parchment before the man turned and disappeared out the door again.

Draco scrambled after Thickness, darting past the now panicking Ministry workers to the lifts, careful not to be trod upon by the surge of people that were trying to get up to the Atrium to discover the source of the disturbance.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, wandered around the lower levels of the Ministry for wherever Umbridge may be taking the Muggleborns to 'register' them. The nearer they came to courtroom five, the very same one that Harry himself was tried in two years ago, the air started to become unnaturally chilled.

"Dementors…" Ron said softly, shivering.

Harry's vision seemed to become foggy, and as they descended the last of the stairs to the courtroom level they turned to a dreadful scene. The dark passage outside the courtrooms was packed with almost a dozen tall, black-hooded figures, their faces completely hidden and their ragged breathing the only sound in the place.

The petrified Muggleborns brought in for questioning sat huddled and shivering on hard wooden benches. Most of them were hiding their faces with their hands, attempting to shield themselves from the dementors' greedy mouths. Some were accompanied by families, but most sat alone.

Harry knew he'd be recognized immediately if he used his Patronus to fend off the dementors, but thankfully he came prepared. Even as Ron and Hermione raised their wands Harry produced from his cloak the Phial of Galadriel. Wordlessly, the light of the great star flared to life, causing the dementors to shrink back with a shuddering gasp.

The Muggleborns and their families gasped collectively, but the trio had no time to comfort them just yet. Both Hermione and Ron conjured their Patronus, the Terrier and Otter circling the Muggleborns and keeping the dementors away while Harry pressed onward.

Abruptly, one of the dungeon doors on the left of the corridor was flung open, accompanied by screams from within.

"No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he _was_ , look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you… get your hands off…"

"This is your final warning," replied Umbridge's soft voice, magically magnified so that it sounded clearly over the man's desperate screams. "If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss."

The man's screams subsided, but dry sobs echoed through the corridor. Even as Umbridge ordered the man taken away, Harry's anger reached the boiling point. Even as two Dementors appeared in the doorway of the courtroom, clutching a wizard in their rotting, scabbed hands, Harry raised the Phail overhead. The crystal flashed, blasting the two cloaked wraiths backward.

"Next…" Umbridge started to say, but stopped, obviously catching the brilliant white light in the corridor. Harry froze, and when nothing appeared in the doorway, he drew his wand suspiciously. "Next, Mary Cattermole," Umbridge called again.

A small woman stood up, looking at the trio cautiously as she walked toward the courtroom door. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed, flanking her protectively as they crossed the threshold. Harry kept his hand on the Phial of Galadriel even as he returned it to his pocket, and was glad he did when he saw the twenty or more dementors that were inside the courtroom, standing like sentinels all around the room.

Behind a balustrade, Umbridge sat regally with the Death Eater Yaxley beside her. Patrolling at the foot of the platform was Umbridge's Patronus, a bright-silver and long-haired cat, obviously protecting only the prosecutors from the influence of the soul sucking wraiths.

Totally ignoring Harry, Ron and Hermione, Umbridge spoke directly to Mrs. Cattermole in her soft, sickly silky voice, "Sit down."

As the woman stumbled to take the single seat in the middle of the floor, the three infiltrators ducked around to ascend the raised platform where Umbridge and Yaxley were sitting. The Death Eater glanced at them all, but Umbridge was far too consumed with tormenting her newest victim to care or notice.

"You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?" the toad-like woman asked, glancing once at the file in her pudgy hands.

The woman seated below them gave a single, shaky nod.

"Married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department?" Umbridge continued, completely unmoved by the other woman's fear.

Again, Mrs. Cattermole nodded, looking around for someone, her husband perhaps.

"A wand was taken from you upon arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole," Umbridge said, "Eight and three quarter inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognize that description?"

Mrs. Cattermole nodded once more, wiping an eye with her sleeve.

"Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took that wand?" Umbridge said at last, and Harry's blood started to boil in his veins.

"T-took?" Mrs. Cattermole said nervously, on the brink of tears. "I didn't t-take it from anybody. I b-bought it when I was eleven years old. It… it chose me."

Umbridge laughed, the soft girlish giggle raking across Harry's nerves. The squat woman leaned forward to look directly at Mrs. Cattermole, and something gold swung forward too, the locket dangled from her short neck.

"No," Umbridge said, "no, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch. I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you here…" she flipped to a different page in her folder, "' _Parents' professions: greengrocers_ …'"

Yaxley laughed jeeringly. Harry had had enough. Rising to his feet, Ron and Hermione looking in terror as the lights in the room flickered, Harry brought the full weight of his staff down on the Death Eater with a mighty blow, sending Yaxley crumpling across the banister.

Umbridge yelped in shock, whirling to look at Harry, and the Patronus shimmered as fear overtook her. "DOLORES UMBRIDGE!" Harry roared, his voice magically magnified and thundering around the room. Everyone else had to cover their ears at the noise. "YOU MUST NOT TELL LIES!"

Umbridge's face contorted with fury, and her stubby wand appeared in her hands like lightning. Harry was faster, and a bright green shield erupted into place before her spell even left her mouth. The curse impacted the energy bubble, spiraling off in another direction. Ron and Hermione dashed in either direction, Hermione going to Mrs. Cattermole, while Ron summoned his Patronus to drive away the dementors at the door.

"You won't get away so easily this time Mr. Potter," Umbridge said roughly, her eyes dark with anger as she held her wand out threateningly. Harry ignored her taunts, drawing Hadhafang with a flourish and swinging it toward the woman, who shrieked and dodged. The blade caught something else, its true target: the cord holding the locket around her thick neck.

The Horcrux when flying, skittering across the stone floor and leaving gouged where it bounced, where Hermione recovered it and stowed it away in her bag. Harry turned to leave, when Umbridge screamed, "NO!" and went berserk with her wand. Curses and hexes went flying in all directions, while the dementors above started to glide down. Shield still erected, Harry weathered the bombardment of spells, redrawing the Phial of Galadriel and charging a powerful blast of light from it and his staff.

The twin pulses merged to drive the Dementors back, but the creatures had gone completely out of control. Two went for Umbridge, who was still madly flinging spells in all direction. Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Cattermole were out the door, with Harry shielding the rear. As they slammed the courtroom door, there was an earsplitting scream from within, followed by a massive earthquake from above.

"I think Faykan's making our escape distraction," Hermione said, even as they all turned to face the crowds outside the courtroom. Between the Phial and two Patronus charms, the dementors were forced far back from the Muggleborns and their families.

"It's been decided that you should all go home and go straight into hiding with your families," Harry said commandingly to them all. "Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from Britain for the time being. Now if you'll all just follow us to the lifts, you will all be leaving via the Atrium."

With the twenty or so people following close behind, Harry Ron and Hermione quickly made their way to the lifts. Apparently, due to the ruckus upstairs, there were many more people going in the same direction, so it was easy to filter into the crowd and out of sight of the Ministry guards and secret Death Eaters.

The Trio waited at the lifts to make sure everyone from the courtroom area was safely aboard and on their way upward before boarding themselves.

"Level eight," said the witch's cool voice, "Atrium."

As the golden grills opened, Harry's eyes widened at the sheer amount of chaos and destruction that had taken place. It made the battle between Voldemort, Faykan and Dumbledore look like a few loose papers in comparison.

Where once the fountain of magical brethren stood, there had been some other monument put in its place, but only a blasted stone foundation now remained, the rest scattered across the Atrium in tiny pieced. Harry guessed that it exploding was what caused the earthquake down below. Fire and lightning flew in circuits around the room, while transfigured foxes and Kitsunes of fire rampaged over anything that would burn.

Wizards were running in every direction, trying to stop the destruction, but everything they attempted only caused nastier consequences. Harry spotted a wizard attempting to stun one of the foxes, only for the thing to explode as it multiplied into three more, each giving off a shower of sparks as they raced off in different directions.

A line of Ministry guards were in the middle, horror on their faces as they leveled their wands at Faykan, who had cast off all disguise and stood, staff alighted, about two feet in the air and supported there by a column of flame. His eyes were flaming brands of white, and he chanted spell after spell in the elvish tongue, no doubt causing more havoc and destruction throughout the Ministry.

"Go, go now!" Harry said, coming to his senses. They needed to get out while all attention was on Faykan. Shepherding the muggleborns and their families, Harry, Ron and Hermione started to go for the nearest floo connection. They had made it halfway from the lifts, when Hermione shrieked. Whipping around, Harry spotted a massive figure leaping from a high balcony at them. The filthy hair, long yellow teeth and above all the stench of the man left no one wondering who it was.

Fenrir Greyback smirked as he straightened to his full height. "The Dark Lord will pay a handsome price for your Head Potter…" he said, before suddenly charging.

"Run!" Harry yelled at the group with them, who wasted no time sprinting away from the werewolf.

Splitting up in the mob of people, Harry fired a stunner behind him, not knowing if it hit Fenrir or not. Something cut him as he ran, but Harry continued to weave through the mob of people in the Atrium.

With a deafening bang, the line of wizards in front of Faykan were knocked about as the column of fire shot outward, and Faykan was among them, bashing with his staff to shunt them aside.

Spells flew, but with a flash a massive golden shield surrounded the Istari. Harry had lost Hermione and Ron in the stampede of people, but as he turned to head toward his best friend, a snarl behind him signaled for Harry to drop to the ground. Greyback flew over him, missing by inches.

As the werewolf landed and turned, dirty fingers spread like claws and teeth bared. Harry responded more out of instinct than rational thought. As Greyback lunged again, he was met by a wall of force, which threw the man backward as he impacted it.

Even as Fenrir tried to recover, Faykan arrived at Harry's side. The Ministry guards were starting to regroup and spells were peppering the shield that the Istari was keeping up. Hastily looking around, Harry realized that Ron, Hermione and even Draco had vanished in the mayhem. "Time to go," he said to Faykan as he blocked a stray spell.

"Aww… and I was just starting to have fun…" Faykan complained sarcastically, to which Harry snorted. It was brilliant how his friend could joke even as they fought in a life and death situation.

Together the pair of Istari turned on their heels, and apparated back to Orthanc. The last thing Harry saw was the rage in Greyback eyes as his prey disappeared out from under him and all the Ministry's wards, which were no match for their superior power. With the Ministry under Voldemort's control, Harry had no qualms about ripping their wards apart by punching through them. it would make it all the easier to retake the place when the madman was good and dead.

Appearing out in front of the tower next to Faykan, the pair of Istari watched as Draco, Ron and Hermione appeared in a swirl of Portkey blue. "Well, that couldn't have been more flawless," he said to them, smiling.

"Harry, your arm," Hermione said, and he looked down at the limb to see his stained sleeve. The cut that he had ignored at the time was far more severe than he had originally expected. Faykan seized the limb, waving his wand over the spot urgently.

"What's the big deal, it's just a scratch…" Draco said, but Hermione shushed him.

"Harry was fighting Fenrir Greyback, even one little cut is a big deal, if the werewolf inflicted it. Greyback regularly cleans his fingernails with his teeth, coating them with his infected saliva, so any wound of his in either form could transmit the disease." Faykan explained. "Thankfully, this was not made by him, and is fine."

Sealing the cut with a final wave, Faykan turned to Hermione and Ron, "Did you get it then?" he asked.

"Yes, I have the locket right here," Hermione said, pulling the chicken egg sized pendant from her bag. The ornate letter ' _S_ ' in the center, inlaid with many small green stones, glinted innocently in the torch light. Harry could feel the dark magic emanating off of it even as it swung gently back and forth from the broken cord in Hermione's hand.

"So this is it…" Ron said, leaning in to examine the locket. "Now that we have it, how do we destroy it?"

"There's only a select few substances that will destroy a Horcrux," Hermione said slowly, looking down at the cursed locket, "From what I've read, Basilisk Venom is the most common substance to eliminate one. The next is fiendfyre, powerful cursed fire that is nearly impossible to control. But I don't think we have access to either of these options…"

"There are a few dark rituals that can eliminate a Horcrux, but they have terrible prices that I am unwilling to make anyone pay. However, there is one option that would work for us, even if we have to travel to accomplish it."

Harry caught Faykan's eye, seeing the glint of a smirk in them. ' _You don't mean…_ ' he thought with a start.

' _I see no other options Kentano_ ,' was Faykan's reply. "We can travel to a place steeped in evil, and throw the locket into the very heart of doom…"

Ron and Draco looked confused at Faykan's statement, but Hermione, who had read nearly as much of the Red Book of Westmarch as Harry had, looked up in shock and surprise, "You mean the dark mountain of Mordor, _Orodruin_?"

"The very same," Faykan affirmed, "There will have to be many preparations for us to go there, not to mention making sure that we will not be missed while we deal with the Horcrux, but I feel that it would be a good moral booster to destroy one portion of Voldemort's ties to the earth."

"I… agree," Harry said slowly, but he was still worried. There was something hanging in the air, like a cloud of magic around the Horcrux, and bringing it to that accursed land would be less than ideal. However, to destroy a portion of Voldemort's soul… it would be well worth the risk.


	9. Chapter 8

**Reviews are the best thing to wake up to on a Wednesday morning, just fyi... Enjoy!**

 **Chapter Eight**

 **Lands of Shadow**

Voldemort was most pleased with his most loyal servant. Bellatrix's breaking into the Order of the Phoenix's old base was performed flawlessly. Even if the books were less than vitally important, truly they detailed no more than what the Dark Lord of the Earth knew of the Istari, nevertheless the task served a valuable purpose in trying Bellatrix.

Discovering that Potter had been hiding there was only a plus, and with that location now unveiled, there was indeed a higher chance of his hunters locating Potter and his allies. Word had already reached Voldemort's ears of the attack on the Ministry, and the damage that the Light's strike team had done there.

The Dark Lord hoped for their sake that whatever their objective, pitiful though it must have been, was worth the cost of revealing themselves to his hunters. And without Grimmauld Place, there was nowhere in Britain for them to hide. It was only a matter of time before the hunters zeroed in on their hiding place, regardless of any defenses or ward thereupon.

The creatures he chose were purposefully selected for this task. Dementors could follow the magic of a particular soul wherever it fled to, while Vampires utilized blood magic to track their intended victim's very heartbeat. Werewolves, once having caught the scent of a targeted victim, could follow for hundreds miles, even if their target used magical means of transportation. There was no distance that Potter could run that any one of these creatures wouldn't be able to follow in time.

Even the mighty Fidelius Charm, although excellent in keeping out human magic users, was significantly weakened against the dark creatures of the night.

And even as they hunted for Potter, the Lord of all Darkness would continue to reroute his attention on subduing the last remnants of resistance in his domain. It was far past time that wizards, the rightful rulers of this world, were subjected to another race of being controlling their wealth.

The goblins of Gringotts, who Voldemort knew allied with his enemies in secret, needed to be taught who their true Master was, and his ever increasing army of orcs were more than eager to return their wayward cousins into the fold.

With a mental signal, amplified through the power of his ring, the Dark Lord sent forth his forces to seize control of the wizarding bank. Soon he would have full control of this nation, in both political influence and economic might.

With this move, the great chess game began anew, and without Dumbledore to stand in his way, Voldemort would emerge triumphant, regardless of the Istari and their little strike force of warriors and rebels.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione was nervous throughout their time preparing to travel to Mordor. There was something not right about the abruptness of their departure plans, and Hermione had stiffened at the gleam in Faykan's eye when he had seen the locket, but she hoped that it was just a trick of the light. Still, it was the most opportune time for them to vanish from the battlefront for a time, so Hermione couldn't see any reason to postpone the trek to the east.

Between their days of planning, scouting out for any sign of Voldemort's movements, as well as continued support of their forces in a state of readied standby, not to mention Harry and Faykan's near constant needs abroad, which kept them constantly active with little time for rest or planning. It wasn't until near the end of October that they finally had time to travel away from Orthanc without being called for some important task.

Even still, Draco remained behind to take care of any situation that might arise while they were away. Instead of a portkey, Harry and Faykan were planning on side along apparating Ron and Hermione as close to the mountain as they dared. "Are you sure about this Fay?" Ron had asked, "It seems like quite a long way for apparition…"

"It's the only way," Faykan replied, "It takes a very precise point to land on, and unfortunately after that there is a terribly long hike up to the mountain. From the terrible years under control of darkness, the whole land is saturated in dark magic, and therefore other magic, however powerful it may be, won't act just right… a portkey is a large amount of magic, and risky when combined with that location."

"Fine…" Ron said at last, offering his arm for Faykan to take. Hermione took Harry's arm, trusting that the boy wouldn't make any mistakes. It was strange how powerful Harry seemed to grow day to day, even though Hermione didn't really see the boy doing much more outside of conducting the war. It didn't seem that there was much time for him to be honing his power as much as he was.

As soon as Ron gave in, Faykan and Harry exchanged a glance, where far more information than possible seemed to be exchanged between the two wizards, and Hermione gasped as the displacement of air enveloped her. After the intense discomfort that always accompanied apparition, Hermione blinked as darkness seemed to surround them.

The sun was clearly overhead, yet dimmed significantly. Looking out across the bleak landscape, Hermione was floored by how empty and desolate it was. With a sharp crack behind them, Faykan and Ron appeared, and the Istari cast his gaze across the land with sorrow. "It hasn't changed in all this time…" he said sadly.

"You mean this is the first time you've returned since the fall of Mordor?" Hermione asked, looking across at him.

"It's not one of the places I associate with fond memories, so forgive me for not checking up on it regularly…" Faykan shot back sarcastically.

Hermione flushed anyway, "sorry."

"Well," Ron said, stretching exaggeratedly, "We're not going to get there any faster standing around chatting like this…"

Harry and Faykan smirked simultaneously at the boy's antics, and led the way down the ridge they had appeared on and into the land that was once known as the plateau of Gorgoroth. In the distance loomed a single black mountain, among the rocks and ruins from so long ago.

The going was slow, and the four teens had to pick their way through many hazards of the land, but they encountered no creatures or people. The land was dead and vacant, with the oppressive aura of darkness weighting down on them all. Hermione felt the evil of this land, and it resonated with the Horcrux in her bag.

Even as they climbed the slopes of _Orodruin_ , the darkness seemed to thicken around Hermione, but she didn't understand why. It had been centuries, millennia even since the Dark Lord Sauron ruled these lands. How could that dark god's power still be so strong after such a long time?

Ron offered his hand as they scaled the last ledge, and Hermione gratefully took the boost. On a wide ledge, set into the side of the mountain was a dark cavernous opening, leading straight into the heart of the mountain. "The doorway to the cracks of doom," Faykan announced, turning to Hermione. "You look tired Hermione; perhaps I should carry the locket from this point forward."

Hermione looked at him, confused for a moment as to why he had requested the item, but then it clicked. The Horcrux was drawing power from the land around them, it was so obvious now! That was why she was feeling so drained. Removing the cursed locket from her bag, Hermione handed it over, immediately feeling relief as the item passed hands to Faykan.

Faykan grasped the severed cord, still attached to the golden locket, and nodded to Hermione. Turning back to face the gaping hole into the mountain, he stepped forward without a word. The others quickly followed into the blackness of the Mountain of Doom.

From that point on it was a straight shot to the heart of the mountain. A rough passage led down into the cavernous heart where far below, Hermione could see magma still flowing in the roots of the fire mountain. As the cavern opened up, the path beneath them became a ledge overlooking a deep hold burrowing straight into the earth. The bottom, once filled with lava, was mostly hardened now, as the volcano was clearly dormant for a long time, but there was still flows here and there, carving channels through the lava rock far below them.

Faykan overlooked these in silence, before stepping forward to suspend the locket over the edge. "Throw it in Faykan!" Ron shouted encouragingly, "destroy it!"

Faykan held there, seemingly frozen in his position at the edge. Harry's eye snapped open wide and he flinched, even as Faykan slowly turned, his free hand mending the cord upon which the locket hung.

"No…" the boy said, "It's mine…"

Hermione screamed.

Faykan's eyes burned with crimson fire as he lowered the locket around his own neck, just as she had seen so long ago in her nightmarish vision.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Severus felt decidedly uneasy as the school year began. Once he was playing a discreet balancing game between the children of Death Eaters and Dumbledore, but now he was in a far more dangerous game between the open supporters of the Dark Lord in the castle, and the underground resistance of Dumbledore's Army and the White Council.

Even though he himself was no longer teaching classes, Severus found amply opportunities to mingle among the students, either by patrolling corridors during the day or in the Great Hall for meals. These short encounters allowed him not only to gage the overall treatment they were receiving by the Carrows, as well as pass vital information secretly to the members of Dumbledore's army.

The results were equally effective. Not only was he able to subtly influence the strikes and pranks of the D.A., but he was also able to smuggle supplies and potions that made their way into the hands of those who were brutally and wrongfully punished by the sadistic brother and sister.

With Muggle Studies being compulsory, and decided twisted to teaching the Dark Lord's superiority complex views of muggles, as well as the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts becoming simply the Dark Arts, the situation was quite dire at the school.

The other complication was Theodore Nott. The boy was clearly placed back at Hogwarts to monitor things for the Dark Lord, keeping an eye out for Harry and his friends, as well as watch Severus himself. The Potions Master turned Headmaster wasn't sure what magic the silver crown the boy wore contained, but it simply reeked of Dark magic, and that couldn't be good for the boy's welfare.

Perhaps therein lay something that those here at the school could help with then... Hindering whatever power the Dark Lord held at Hogwarts must reside with that artifact, regardless of the brutality of the Carrows.

Walking down the charms corridor, students parting for him in muted fear, Severus caught the eye of Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom in the crowd. As he turned the far corner, unseen by the other children, he casually dropped a scrap of parchment for the pair of Gryffindors to recover.

This had been their primary method of communication for a while now, as the enchanted coins that Hermione Granger had created were only good for very basic information, and Severus wanted the students to use that between themselves. More so, Nott would suspect the coins immediately, from his discovery of the group two years previously, but this simple method could easily slip by unnoticed.

With his objective completed, Severus returned to the Headmaster's office, hoping to relay this information to the group in Orthanc via the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. "There is only the young boy of Malfoy and Lady Narcissa there, and he reports that the others are gone on a special mission."

"Blast…" Severus replied. The one time he had information to report, and neither Harry nor Faykan were present.

What sort of special mission was so important and secret that Draco wouldn't even tell him what it was? In thinking about their disappearance, Severus felt a flash of worry, like a bad feeling spreading across the wind. 'Harry… Faykan… what are you getting yourselves into?'

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry stared in horror as Voldemort's Horcrux took control of Faykan's mind. It was apparent what a bad idea this was now. Not only had Faykan specifically been exposed to this particular object, but it had shown a remarkable hold over the Istari at the time. Taking same said artifact into this land, where its evil powers were sure to be magnified, along with its own desire to survive was just asking for a disaster to happen.

But now, red eyed and shaking with suppressed power, a dark version of his best friend stood before them. Could this be something similar to what the Istari had gone through before, Harry wondered. Stepping in front of Ron and Hermione, Harry brandished his staff before him, ready to defend them from Faykan if he needed to.

"I cannot let you leave here in this state Faykan…" he said solemnly.

"You will try…" Faykan sneered back, lifting his own staff above his head. The ground, far below them started to shake, and caused the ledge they were standing on to splinter and crack.

Ron and Hermione staggered, but Harry immediately exerted a small amount of magical power to lift himself off the ground. Focusing his power through the gold and emerald staff, Harry fired a golden ray of magic at the locket, trying to knock the artifact loose and free Faykan without harming him.

Unfortunately, the Blue Istari seemed to expect this attack, and twisted out of the way, raising a dueling shield and firing off his own array of attack spells, forcing Harry onto the defensive.

Throwing forth a semicircle of reinforced magic, Harry met the attacks head on, watching spells splash over his defenses and returning mild to moderate hexes and curses, trying to distract Faykan so that he could get another shot at the locket. But the boy wouldn't be dissuaded, even allowing several of Harry's spells to strike him in his efforts to press the attack. Harry felt his own heart tear every time he saw another part of his best friend cut, pierced or bruised because of the blasted piece of Voldemort.

Suddenly struck with an idea, Harry canceled his levitation, slamming into the stone ledge with great force, and willing his magic to cause cracks in the volcanic stone. Thus weakened, Harry used formless magic to rip large chunks of stone out of the ledge, destabilizing it further and throwing the boulders at Faykan, intermittently firing stunners and other incapacitating spells at his friend.

Faykan, eyes still burning with dark power, uttered a curse, and his voice sounded like metal grinding on stone as he released a powerful wave of black fire, melting straight through magic and stone alike. Slamming his staff downward, Harry relied on his shield of light to weather the attack, protecting not only himself but his friends as well.

"Fay... stop this... please!" Hermione wailed, struggling to react. Harry could only momentarily register the abstract horror that was completely locking up the brightest of them, before he had to dodge to the side, sidestepping a conjured lance that had been banished at him.

Faykan, returning to the attack, increased in tempo, pressing down with more curses in what Harry recognized as the Black Speech. The mountain rumbled in response to the henious language being used in it after so long, and several small explosions down below signaled that more magma was flowing free in the volcano. Their battle seemed to have reawakened the mountain.

"Try and stop me!" the boy roared in return, voice full of anger and scathing condescension, even as he caught Harry in the arm with a cutting hex. Blood erupted from the wound, but Harry had enough presence of mind to stagger out of the next spell's path. Waving a hand over the wound, _Vilya_ flared on his finger, and the deep cut mended rapidly.

Harry had circled around Faykan, and now had his back to the deep plunge into the volcanic flows of the mountain, with Ron and Hermione on Faykan's far side. Faykan was focusing solely on Harry, completely ignore the others as threats of any sort, and that turned out to be his mistake. Even as he boxed Harry him, the green eyed boy spotted Ron stealthily sneaking up on Faykan from behind.

"Now I have you at last, Potter!" Faykan hissed triumphantly, leveling his staff at Harry with a malicious gleam in his eyes.

" _Avada..._ " he started, just as Ron struck. Launching himself physically at the thin boy, Ron tackled Faykan to the ground, stamping on his hand until the staff was dislodged from his grip. Harry ran forward as well, seizing the locket and wrenching it from around Faykan's neck while the boy struggled and flailed under Ron's weight.

Finally pulling the loathsome object free, Harry was immediately besieged by a consuming voice, offering all power if he just claimed it, hung the locket around his neck and departed this place. His hands were burning even as he held the cursed object, and he could see in his minds eye Voldemort, and behind the snake faced man a great eye, wreathed in shadow and flame.

"Go back to the fiery chasm from whence you came!" Harry roared defiantly, flinging the locket with all his strength. It soared straight over the edge of the chasm, bounced a handful of times off the stone walls, and dropped with a sizzling plop into the molten river far below.

A scream, loud and piercing echoed through the mountain, seeming to drag on for an immeasurable time, although Harry supposed it to be mere moments at best. A blast of magic from far below and a slight rumble of an aftershock were all the fanfare the Horcrux had before it was consumed by fire.

Sighing in relief, Harry turned back to his friends. Hermione and Ron were fine, but they were gathered concernedly around Faykan, who had crumpled to the stone floor, shaking uncontrollably.

"Faykan..." Harry said soothingly, taking the boy by the arm and slowly lifting him to a sitting position. "come on now... it's over... it's gone..."

"B-but... I... I let it consume me..." Faykan said shakily, voice wavering as he tried to calm himself, failing badly. "I attacked you all, he controlled me..."

"But it's over now..." Harry continued fervently, "the locket is destroyed, and whatever hold on you that it had will die with it."

"How can I trust myself to see the rest of this through?" Faykan said, clearly having a hard time hearing reason in his terror. "I could return to how I was... before..."

Harry understood Faykan's fear more than the others could ever. Through their bond as Istari, he had witnessed, in a sense, the actions and deeds that both Faykan and his predecessor in fallen Istari, Saruman, had done to harm the world of men. If he had escaped with the locket still in control of him, there was little that the world could have done to hinder him.

"Let's get back to Orthanc, so Fay can rest..." Harry told the others. Ron nodded, taking Faykan's other side and helping Harry lift the boy to his feet, much like they had all the back when they were twelve.

Hermione led the way up the passage to the exit of the volcano, only a few times casting a concerned look back at the three boys.

Once they returned to the ledge overlooking the lands of Mordor, Harry froze. They were no longer alone. Several figured were waiting for them just a few yards from the entrance.

"Well, we finally caught up to you Potter..." hissed a voice from the lead figure, "and in this of all places for you to be, such a naughty boy..." the figure lowered his hood, displaying a gaunt face with yellowed eyes and long fangs. "We've simply been dying to meet you..."

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix cackled gleefully as she strode into Gringotts bank, flanked by row of orcs and her fellow Death Eaters. The Dark Lord had predicted that they would be unopposed in this attack, and could punish the goblins for siding with their enemies, and Bella had requested to lead this act of vengeance in her master's name.

The initial guards of the bank were sorely unprepared for the assault, killed before they could even heft their weapons. But those inside the main bank must have heard the commotion, as when Bellatrix entered the main lobby; all the goblins had vanished, leaving their stations and clients in confusion.

"Secure this level!" Bellatrix commanded, and the orcs snarled appreciatively as they began to herd the baffled and frightened wizards out of the bank. No need to spill pure blood over this little matter, no matter what their bloodlust. That violence was to be save for the traitorous goblins.

When the last of the wizards were forced out of the bank, Bellatrix turned to the doors that led farther into the passages where the vaults were located. Even as she stepped toward them, the doors crashed open, fully armed goblin warriors spilling out.

"You are not welcome here!" bellowed the leader, a goblin clad in golden armor, carrying a massive battleaxe in one hand.

Bellatrix cackled appreciatively, "And here I was worried that this would be no challenge." Nodding at the nearest orcish warrior, Bellatrix advanced on the goblins, wand raised.

"Attack!" the leader shouted, and the goblins rushed forward with bone daggers and spears, but their weapons proved quite ineffective against the cold steel of the orcs. Killing Curses streamed from Belletrix's wand, slaughtering goblins left and right as they pressed through the defenses into the entrance of the tunnels.

Turning back to the other Death Eaters still in the lobby, she ordered, "Secure this level, and prepare for the bank to reopen under our Lord's control. I will go below with the orcs to root out the traitors and destroy them utterly."

"Yes Madam LeStrange!" they replied, looking properly intimidated.

Returning to the passage ahead, Bellatrix ordered the orcs to have a free reign in slaughtering the goblins, and to advance lower. She followed, occasionally sniffing out places where the goblins tried to set up ambushes, and snuffing them out with her dark powers.

It was a good day to serve the Dark Lord.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione screamed as the Vampires suddenly rushed them, fangs bared and claws extended. Harry and Ron thrust Faykan backward at her, drawing their weapons and hastily erecting a wall of fire. The elven weapons blazed with blue fire in the presence of the vile blood drinkers, and the wall of flames deterred them from their approach.

Staff and _Hadhafang_ spinning in fury, Harry began his counterattack, blasting fire and stone shrapnel from the area around them at their enemies. The vampire leapt high to avoid the flames, and the chips of stone did little to hinder them.

Hermione was about to prop Faykan at her leg and draw her bow, when she heard the boy whisper urgently, "Hermione… Help me… the others need me…"

Hermione hesitated, Faykan was still so weak from being possessed, and who knew what might happen here. It almost seemed as though the vampires were stronger here than from what Hermione had read about them.

"Hermione…" Faykan said again, and she looked down. The boy was straining to draw _Glamdring_ , but if he was that tired, how would he be able to fight.

"Fay, I…" she started, but he cut her off with a look. The boy's eyes were steel and full of fire. "Alright…" she acquiesced, seizing him under the arm and pulling him to his feet. The moment Faykan rose, Hermione yelped as what felt like fire shot through the boy's body, jolting her with pure energy. _Glamdring_ emerged with a searing flame form its scabbard, and Faykan let out a roar of pure force and rage.

" _vanima kalina en' i' anar_ , _urya_!"

A single beam of light flared into the clouded sky, causing the darkened sky to start brightening. The vampires halted with their eyes wide as they turned fearfully to the heavens. The mass of clouds shifted ever so slightly, and a ray of pure sunlight shined down.

Hermione smiled as she felt the warmth on her skin, after just a short trek through this gloomy land, just a glimpse of the blue sky above was reassuring. Thankfully it was more than just a moral boost to them. Fear of the sun and its destructive power on their undead flesh, the vampires turned and fled immediately, transforming into clouds of shadowy mist and flying away, leaving the group of four well alone once again.

Once the vampires were out of sight, Faykan's spell ended, and he sank to his knees, all strength leaving him. "Fay…" Harry said, rushing over and helping the Istari stand again. "We really need to get back now," he added, seeming to understand something that even Hermione couldn't see. "Faykan's used up far too much of his power after be weakened by the locket."

Hermione and Ron barely had time to grab onto Harry before the boy jerked suddenly, apparating all four of them back to Orthanc with a deafening explosion of sound.

When they landed, Hermione fell sharply as Harry immediately spun, sweeping Faykan into his arms as the other boy collapsed, and tore up the stairs of the tower to return the exhausted Istari to his room.

"Hermione!" said a voice behind her and Ron. Hermione turned to see Draco, rushing up to them and looking worried. "We need Faykan and Harry quickly! It's an emergency!"

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco stopped to gasp for air. He had run all the way from the edge of the refugee community, where he had received a dire message from Britain. An exhausted messenger owl had swooped down, screeching up a storm as it dove at Draco, and depositing the hastily written note on him before collapsing in a dead faint.

Scooping up the message, Draco read with growing horror. ' _Gringotts under attack_ , _dark forces slaughtering any resistance, send help immediately_.'

With that he had fled instantly to the tower, hoping beyond hope that the others had returned, and as luck would have it they had. But, skidding to a halt in the main hall at the look on the girl's face, he somehow knew that something was terribly wrong.

"W-what is it?" he asked.

Hermione didn't answer, simply turning away sadly and rushing up the stairs. Looking over at Ron, Draco was caught off guard by even the red head's downcast look. "What? What happened?" he demanded, not liking the darkened mood that had suddenly swarmed over them.

"It's Faykan," Ron said softly, "we got to the mountain, but… he… the locket took control of him for a time. We destroyed it, but then, we were attacked soon after and he hurt himself in protecting us I think. Harry's with him now…"

Draco started pulling his hair in frustration. They didn't need something like this happening now, "Argh!" he shouted angrily, turning away and storming up the stairs to the private rooms. He needed to speak with Harry and Faykan immediately about the message, didn't Ron and Hermione realize that there were other important things going on in the world than just destroying one Horcrux.

As he mounted the last steps to the midpoint of the tower, Draco spotted Harry emerging from Faykan's room. "Harry, you need to see this…" Draco said urgently, thrusting the parchment under the black haired boy's nose.

Harry took the parchment, and read it sadly, closing his eyes tiredly afterward. "Faykan's out of commission for a time Draco, and I… I can't, not right now…"

With a roar of frustration, Draco grabbed Harry by the robe front, shaking him slightly as he ranted, "How can you be so callous to our allies Harry, they are dying right now and need us. What's wrong with you all of a sudden?!"

Why couldn't anybody see how important this was? Draco was so angry, that he was completely unprepared for Harry to shove him back, his strength amplified by a burst of magic. Draco flew back into the opposing wall, grunting in pain.

"If it's so important to you Draco, by all means take warriors and go help the goblins, I would go myself if I could, but I am needed here. I am the only one who knows what is wrong with Faykan, and how to make sure he recovers."

He paused, looking suddenly very weary himself, "We've been stretched too thin as it is I think. This defensive strategy isn't working, but it's all we have at the moment while we hunt the Horcruxes…"

Draco turned away, understanding what Harry was saying, but still torn about what he felt had to be done. "Then would you at least get me to Diagon with some fighters, we need to send some sort of help, and it's been so long already."

"I agree…" Harry replied, "Gather those who'll follow you into battle, and I'll prepare a mass portkey, but then I need to rest."

Draco nodded stiffly, and stumbled slightly as he returned to his feet. Sprinting down the tower again, he dashed outside and began spreading the word of an attack no their allies, and for warriors willing to go to the goblin's defense.

The reaction was surprising. Draco was still having a hard time accepting that so many still remembered the old legends of the King, and more so that they were willing to follow him, of all people, into battle and possibly death because of his inherited birthright.

No sooner had he passed the word along to about two dozen of the refugees, than there was a great noise made as people from all across the valley started arming for battle. Word apparently was spread like wildfire that the heir of Gondor was marshalling forces to fight, and even these weary warriors held true to their ancient codes of fealty.

By the time he returned to the front of Orthanc, there was in the realm of three to four dozen warriors, both wizarding and mundane, ready to fight. Harry slowly emerged from the tower, leaning more on his staff than Draco liked to see, but nevertheless levitating a large plank of wood that was shimmering in the blue haze of portkey magic.

"When you've finished with what you intend there," he instructed carefully, "the instruction for the portkey to return will be sufficient to bring you all safely back to this spot."

Turning slightly, Harry looked directly at Draco, "I hope you find what you need on this excursion and most of all that you stay safe, my friend…"

Draco paused as the boy turned and left, stunned by the strange turn of formality from the normally very casual Harry. It was off putting to hear him use the same sort of language that Draco attributed to the halls of Malfoy Manor, but he had little time to digest this information. He reached out and placed a single figure on the plank of wood, struggling to make room for all the assembled warriors, and activated the portkey to Diagon Alley.

In a whirl of color, the strike team flew through the air, landing heavily in front of the marble bank in the now quite deserted marketplace.

Drawing _Andúril_ and looking around cautiously, Draco indicated the bank, taking the lead as his group strategically entered the building. The first small foyer with the warning to thieves was empty, but beyond that several human Death Eaters were milling about, happily pillaging the abandoned wealth that had been actively moving in the bank right before they attacked.

The first row of fighters launched a volley of arrows at these men, striking more than half with hindering, if not fatal, wounds. The last few only had time to look up in horror as spells and swords rained death upon them. Draco paused only for a moment to reflect that these men could easily have been his father, but he forced himself to focus on what was most important, saving an important ally from mass destruction.

The rooms beyond were littered with bodies, orcish and goblinoid, and Draco hesitated at what they may find beyond, down in the darkened tunnels of the vaults. But they had come so far already to turn back now. "Onward!" he shouted, and with a cry of fervor the warrior all around him surged into the darkness, spells and torches lighting their way as they pursued their enemy through the darkness of the goblin nation.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry watched Draco and his band of loyal follower vanish into the maelstrom of magic, sighing wearily as he returned inside the Tower. In truth, there was a part of him that still yearned for battle, to drive the Dark Lord's forces before him and stamp out that corruption for good, but right now the majority of him was tired of war and battle and blood.

He had almost lost his best friend to the darkness, and having learned of what evil the Blue Istari had once nearly committed, seeing the near fall first hand had been too near a strike to his heart. He was sure that both Hermione and Ron had felt similarly, which explained why they too had no desire to charge off to another battlefield.

Faykan was very near death even as it was. This was something that Harry had wisely kept to himself. The possession and draining influence of the locket had been far greater than any of them, Faykan included, had ever realized. Magnifying that with the dark influence of Mordor, and the items near sentience at the point of its destruction, and it was no surprise that events had played out as they had.

But was Harry ready to throw in the towel and surrender to Voldemort? Never! He just needed a short respite for now, much as they all did he suspected. They had been fighting nonstop since the beginning of the previous summer, if not before that, so it was natural that they ran out of steam eventually. Draco was still rather young, much like Ron, when it came to these sorts of experiences, so Harry did not begrudge his continued enthusiasm for protecting their allies and fighting their battles.

If anything, it was a testament to the boy's integrity as a future leader of the world. Since entering into his full power, Harry had shared and gained many thoughts that were not his own, primarily from Faykan, which had detailed several sensitive topics about his friends; things he was sure they would not appreciate him knowing about them. However much he disliked keeping secrets and wanton deception, he now fully understood why Faykan kept so much in reserve from them, chief among which was their own protection.

It was a hard transition from what he had done previously, and Harry knew that it could easily get out of hand far too quickly if he accidentally let slip anything, but the information was rather important, especially when it came the sheer importance that Draco himself represented in the eyes of the destitute refugees from Rohan.

 _vanima kalina en' i' anar, urya : beautiful light of the sun, blaze_


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

 **Under Stone**

Bellatrix laughed as blasted another goblin civilian with the Killing Curse. Her forces had pressed through most of the outer guardians and were now securely inside the main Goblin residential area, no doubt a breeding ground for rebellion against her Lord. By this point most of the filthy traitors were trying to flee for their lives, but the orcs with Bellatrix were accustomed to fighting underground, in the dark, and were able to hunt down any stragglers with ease.

Whipping her wand one through the air, Bellatrix sent a small knot of warriors flying backward, slaying three before they even struck the stone cavern floor. This was starting to become far too boring for her, and she was hoping that something interesting would happen soon.

This was why she almost jumped for joy when an arrow struck the nearest orc, slaying the creature even as the Horns of Rohan started to sound through the chamber. Alatar and his armies had arrived.

Delighted at the prospects of facing off against the powerful wizard again, Bellatrix skipped toward the sound, idly slaughtering a few goblins as she went, waiting for the first sign of the blazing Istari to catch her eye.

" _Elendil!_ " was shouted by a familiar voice, and Bellatrix frowned as her wayward nephew stormed around the corner, with a host of warriors at his back. The boy was not the one she wanted to fight. The massive sword in the boy's hand shone with red flames in the gloom, and he charged the first ranks of orcs head on like some warlord of old.

Bellatrix paused momentarily, watching the ensuing bloodbath. Young Draco had indeed become a fierce warrior due to the teaching of the Istari. Perhaps the boy wasn't as weak as she supposed, but it was no matter. Draco had thrown his lot in with the enemies of her Lord, and must pay the consequences along with the rest.

" _Avada Kedavera!_ " she intoned, eager to watch the green bolt strike the boy, killing him for good this time.

Unexpectedly, even though she had positioned herself out of his field of vision, the boy managed to twist himself mid strike and bring the wretched blade between him and the spell, sending the deadly energy flying off in a different direction. Snarling in indignation, Bella waded into the fray herself, spells and curses flying from her lips, mowing a path through the melee toward her _beloved_ nephew.

The boy would die by her hand, even if her magic couldn't pierce whatever enchantment that blade possessed. Silently withdrawing the large dagger she kept for such occasions, Bella smirked as she silently drew close.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco was sore already from just the first few exchanges in the tunnels. Now that he and the forces of Rohan had broken into the goblin city proper, he was quick to rally the besieged goblins along with his people. _Andúril_ sang in blood and battle, sending vile orcs to their destruction with every stroke of death.

Even still, Draco could sense a greater malevolence somewhere in the battle, growing nearer and more familiar. It didn't take too long to realize that his Aunt was present here, fighting to overthrow this city just as he came to buy time for the goblins to escape. He had come to the conclusion that Gringotts was lost fairly soon into their fight through the tunnels, there were simply too many orcs to repel them all.

Instantly the entire mission's paradigm was shifted, turning from liberation into a rescue operation, as they fought to rescue every goblin citizen they could. A whisper from his blade, and Draco intentionally over swung the weapon, drawing back further than he normally would, and he felt the blade impact something vile, jarring him to the very core. Knowing that he had just survived death once again, Draco brought the blade full force onto the body of the orc before him, splintering its armor and slaying the foul beast.

He whirled, dodging the incoming blade of another enemy, and parrying the barbed shield that attempted to follow up its sword. The spirit of _Eldarion_ hardly had to council him on how to move or act any longer, as Draco had grown into wielding this weapon of his heritage. Within a cluster of fighters, he became a small tornado of steel and magic, his wandless power having started to slowly manifest itself the previous summer.

Felling another large orc, Draco felt the tell-tale sign of danger, and he whirled, moments ahead of when Bellatrix herself blasted a Rohirric warrior that was back to back with Draco.

"My dear nephew!" she cried, false joy in her face.

Draco held his ground, knowing that taking his eyes of his Aunt for even a second would spell death.

"How nice of you to come and see our Lord's work in action!" Bellatrix continued, sickeningly happy.

Draco refused to play along, knowing that this was all an act to try and distract him. Pouting at his refusal to play her game, Bellatrix suddenly lunged, a dagger flashing in her hand. Had he not been prepared, Draco would easily have found himself impaled by the cruel blade. Case though it was, he parried it with his much larger weapon, rearing back to slash at his Aunt with the Sword of Kings.

"I don't think so!" she cried sadistically, dodging back and parrying his weapon with the dagger, bringing her wand to bear as a follow up.

Draco was forced to roll away as the blasting curse flew from the wand, wincing as it struck a warrior behind him. From behind his Aunt, Draco could see more orcs pouring from various corners of the underground city. From what he could see, all the goblins around them were dead, and the warriors of Rohan were being slowly pressed back out of the subterranean cavern.

Banking on the hope that some goblin warriors still lived, and would help them escape from the oncoming flow of orcs, Draco pulled from his cloak the Horn of Gondor, blaring out a strong sharp note. The orcs staggered, caught off guard by the powerful blast from the Gondorian horn, and even Bellatrix seemed to be shaken by it.

Swinging _Andúril_ high, Draco attacked his Aunt again, savagely beating her back, even as she continued to dodge and parry his strikes. Once he had pushed her back to the line of orcs however, Draco foolishly over swung, which allowed the mad witch to slam into him, sending the sword flying over his head.

"Now, dear Nephew," she gloated, holding her wand on him, "Why don't you say hello to cousin Sirius for me!"

Time seemed to slow down around Draco as he watched the end of Bellatrix's wand start to glow deathly green. Before the curse could discharge and strike him down, however, his Aunt reared back in anger as a volley of arrows sailed into the orcish ranks around them.

Draco felt himself dragged back toward his own forces. "Quickly Lord _Telcontar_ ," one of the goblins holding his arms said as the led him away from the renewed battle, "there is little that can be done to recover the bank, we must get you and the human forces away from here quickly."

Draco stumbled along, pausing only to recover _Andúril_ as he rejoined the swiftly retreating Rohirric warriors as the goblins guided them back through the passages, Bellatrix and the orcs hot in pursuit, ranting and screaming for their blood.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix raged at the audacity of the accursed goblins, preventing her from dispatching her irritating nephew. Their surprise attack did little more than buy them time however, as her orcs could outrun the weary warriors that little Draco had brought with him, and the goblins were already all but crushed.

Pursuing the lot of them through the countless passages, Bellatrix allowed several of the more ruthless orcs to take the lead, and as they rounded a sharp corner in the passage, she skidded to a halt as those same orcs were cut down by a surprise barrage of sharpened bone arrows.

The insidious goblins had thrown up a barricade in the tunnel, blocking their path before a large iron door. Bellatrix could see the human warriors disappear into a swarm of goblins beyond it before the door slammed with a resounding clang. Screaming in anger, Bellatrix leveled her wand on the barricade, blasting it apart and scattering the few defenders that were outside the massive metal gate.

Turning to the orc leader, "no matter how long it takes, tear down that door and slaughter all those beyond it. There can't be many places left for them to hide." The massive beast with iron plating spliced into its lower jaw grinned toothily as Bellatrix turned away.

The Dark Lord needed to be informed of this development, and she no longer desired to remain in these darkened tunnels any longer.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco sighed in relief as the solid iron door to the goblin citadel slammed shut, blocking out the orcs and his Aunt. From what he glimpsed as the ran through, the metal was etched with goblin runes, and therefore more than likely heavily enchanted to resist any form of force that the orcs could use to breech the defenses.

"Lord _Telcontar_ ," a goblin said respectfully as he approached, "Lord Ragnok wishes to speak with you."

Draco hadn't a clue as to who the goblin was referring to, but if it meant being able to get his warriors to safety, and reporting back to Faykan and Harry, then he'd take it.

"Take me to him," Draco replied, following the goblin as they waded through the milling humans and goblin refugees in the underground fortress.

As it turned out, they immediately went to what appeared to be the main part of the camp, and a massive stone structure built out of the wall of the cavern. Ragnok, as it turned out, was the leader of the goblin nation in Britain. The gold armored Lord was suffering from a large wound on his shoulder, but showed little weakness from it as he met with Draco.

"I will be frank and brief, Lord _Telconar_ ," he said as Draco entered his chamber, "I thank you for your timely appearance, but I am grieved by the loss of the bank and many of my citizens."

Draco looked away, knowing that if he had come sooner, or with greater forces, much of this could be avoided. If only Harry or Faykan had joined him…

"I do not blame you, Lord _Telcontar_ ," the goblin said, catching Draco's downcast expression. "Nor do I blame Lords _Alatar_ or _Calenrohtar_. They have many tasks placed before them, and if they did not come here at this moment they have their reasons."

Draco wasn't so certain of that, but the goblin Lord continued, "However, in spite of your arrival, and defense of my people, Gringotts had invariably fallen to our enemies. I am giving the order for all noncombatants of my people to flee to Orthanc, and the Istari's protection, while I and my fighters hold what parts we can maintain, ever hoping to break through and retake our homeland."

Pointing at Draco with a sharp finger, Lord Ragnok became slightly more intense in his speaking, and Draco could tell that the strain from his wound was paining him, "I wish for you and your human warriors to escort my people to safety, and relay the message to Lord _Alatar_ , he will know when and how best to help us free ourselves."

Draco was torn. While he knew that he needed to fulfill the goblin lord's wishes, he still felt that there ought to be something here and now that he could do. "I understand," he said, turning back toward the solid metal door that separated these now refugees within and the many orcish warriors just outside.

' _There is something we can do, before departing, that may buy the goblins much extra time_ …' whispered the spirit of _Eldarion_. Placing a hand on the sword hilt, Draco's mind was filled with a complicated spell of protection.

Halfway to his warriors, Draco immediately shifted direction and went straight to the door. Drawing Andúril reverently, Draco carefully stepped to the opening motions of the ritual-like spell that _Eldarion_ had implanted directly into his mind. Slowly swinging the enchanted blade in an archaic pattern, the words implanted in his mind simply fell from his own mouth, and Draco found himself speaking the ancient language of the Kings of Númenor.

" _Târik 'n dâira, kan kâtha abâr 'n ugru êphalak. Agan yakalubîm azgarâuruk nakh nimirad!_ "

From the base of the metal gates, a symbol of a brilliant white tree exploded upward, fixing itself over the door and shining in the gloom of the cave. The feeling of uselessness departed from Draco, and at last he felt that he could depart from here with some measure of security for the remaining goblins accomplished.

Quickly rallying his warriors, Draco led them to a sheltered corner of the large cavern, and quickly sent a messenger back to Orthanc to report to whomever he could find and request evacuation aid for the goblin nation.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry sighed as he draped a wet cloth over Faykan's forehead. The boy had remained unconscious and feverish since they returned from Mordor, only growing steadily worse over the last few hours. Draco and his warriors had not returned during that time, and Harry was growing concerned, he had expected for Draco to at least send back a messenger Patronus when they made contact with Voldemort forces.

He'd have gone to check on them himself, but he couldn't leave Faykan alone, as his own magic was currently employed in keeping his best friend from slipping further away while he nursed Faykan back to health.

While he attempted to keep the fever down with a cloth and water, he was simultaneously performing as much random bits of magic around the room as he could, stimulating the atmosphere and charging it in effort to get Faykan's own core to react. There was a small whirlwind, little more than a dust devil now, scrubbing the stones as piled of scrolls and tomes lifting into the air, rearranged themselves more orderly and set back down again.

Colored lights were bobbing and winking in the air, new ones appearing whenever one extinguished itself, but thus far nothing seemed to have any effect on Faykan whatsoever. "I don't understand…" Harry said to himself aloud, growing worried. "It's not as thought the Horcrux had power enough to use a curse of its own…"

He paused, staring into space as he revisited the events in the crack of doom, widening his eyes in the horror of his own blind stupidity, "Oh, but it did…" he retracted, glancing down at Faykan's pale face. Knowing what he had to do, and not liking it one bit, Harry removed the green gem of his still relatively new staff.

Propping Faykan in his free arm, Harry held the emerald over his best friend, and opened his magic core wide, allowing pure power to funnel through the conduit of the staff focus. Slipping into a trance, Harry heard his own voice speaking words of power, Quenya, Sindarin, even traces of languages he couldn't place names to. At times he thought he heard voices other than his own, and a great pressure, almost a shadow, seemed to pervade the room around the pair of Istari.

After what felt like an eternity, Harry roped his magic around the unseen shade, and with an almighty heaving of his magical strength, tore the darkness out of Faykan, watching in disgust as the shadow dripping into the emerald, floating like a suspended liquid inside the jewel.

A brilliant flash of light magic, and the shadow of Mordor was incinerated. Sighing deeply, Harry felt all the muscles of his own body relax, and he sagged somewhat with the effort he had put forth to exorcise the Horcrux's dark influence from Faykan. All would be well now, after they both rested.

Settling Faykan back onto the pillows, Harry turned to leave for his own room, when a silvery-white form burst through the nearby wall. He recognized it first as a Patronus, then secondly as a _kirinki_ , which indicated instantly as to whose Patronus it was.

" _Send help immediately_ ," Draco's voice spoke out of the bird. " _Gringotts is overrun, and the goblin nation seeks refuge. Come quickly_!"

Weary from all the activity of the last few hours, Harry dutifully gathered his staff, and after reaffixing the gem atop it, he took in a portion of the Patronus' magic before the remainder faded, allowing him to scry the location of the caster.

Behind Harry's eyes, a vision of the depth of Gringotts opened, and he marveled at the amount of destruction that Voldemort had caused to the bank. Knowing what he must do, Harry started for the exit, pausing only to pull from his robes the phial of Galadriel.

Closing a hand around the warm crystal, he murmured to himself, " _Enni Elbereth vellas_..."

Before Harry could move another step, a brilliant flash of light illuminated the room. Whirling, Harry searched for the source, his eyes falling upon the Faykan's sapphire and silver staff of power. The jewel atop it was glowing, and without thinking Harry lifted a hand. Without a thought or command, the staff flew to him, and Harry felt an increase of power surge within him, as well as the familiarity that he had with Faykan when he was around.

"Thank you Faykan," Harry said to the slumbering form of his greatest ally and friend, and he turned to go to Draco's rescue. Even as he made his way down, both staffs clutched in his hands, Harry had to stop and smile again as he encountered both Ron and Hermione, fully clad in their armor and holding their weapons.

"My friends…" he said wistfully.

"Harry," Ron said, keeping his tone even as he spoke, "We discussed some things, and we've agreed that we need to go help Draco, regardless of the events that just happened. The Goblins need us."

Harry had no words; he simply smiled and nodded, walking past them and out of the tower. Having knowledge of exactly where Draco and the goblins were holding out, Harry tore open a portal to the dark depths, stepping through with Ron and Hermione on his heels.

Goblin civilians immediately started gathering around them, there large eyes looking toward the portal desperately. Understanding what was needed, Harry turned Faykan's staff on the portal, pouring magic through his best friend's weapon to keep it open, and then planting the staff into the stone so that it remained upright. "Go," he told the goblins, "you will be safe at Orthanc."

As the goblin noncombatants started to rush through the portal to safety, Harry turned his attention to locating Draco. Spotting the warriors of Rohan gathered near a large iron door, they found Draco with several goblin warriors, holding a line of warriors as massive bangs coming from beyond the door. "Harry," Draco said as he turned to them all, "You made it!"

"What's the situation?" Harry replied, getting straight to the point as he looked concernedly at the door, which was starting to form large dents in the metal, even as an enchantment seemed to be sparking and shrieks of pain sounded from the far side.

"There's a ward on the door," Draco hurriedly explained, "but the orcs and their Death Eater allies are bombarding it anyway. As powerful as it is, I don't think it will hold much longer."

Harry nodded, "We should focus most of our efforts in evacuating the goblins, if the door falls, then I will be here to meet our enemy."

Draco, Ron and Hermione all nodded, leading the warriors away to help monitor and guide the civilians through the portal. Harry returned his attention to the door, studying the weakening ward that was placed upon it. He smirked to himself as he recognized the symbol of the Tree of Gondor imprinted into the magic; Draco's own handiwork.

Harry was very impressed with the complexity of the ward Draco had cast, even if there were a few things that he knew of that would have refined it. Regardless, it had done its job well, and the foes on the other side were expending great amounts of energy trying to break it down.

As the others around him swept into a storm of activity, getting every able body goblin well away from the entrance and ushering them towards the portal, Harry prepared several powerful spells, set to trigger the moment the doors were broken open. Finally, as the metal of the doors started to groaning protest to the stress from without, Harry removed the Phial of Galadriel once more.

Harry had taken great care in learning all he could about this wondrous object, in part from the Lady of Lórien herself. The light of the great jewel, named _Eärendil_ ; the Silmaril of the ancient elf-lords that was set in the heavens, was housed in this enchanted container, and would burn any evil that it came across, proving to be the most powerful weapon Harry had in his possession.

With an almighty crash, the iron doors parted, allowing Harry to see beyond it into a sea of snarling, angry faces. Another powerful rush of magic and steel, and the doors were ripped from their hinges, sending the towering sheets of metal flying, and activating Harry's delayed magic. A torrent of wind erupted, catching the doors and sending them flying backward into the mass of orcs, while fire and lightning blasted into their midst, slaying many, but the horde charged into the breach, where Harry stood alone as solid as a mountain before a flood.

Raising his staff high, Harry aimed the Phial of the elves at the oncoming tide, allowing his magic to burn with the light of the great elf-star, and releasing a blast of power that illuminated every shadow on the cavern. " _You cannot enter here_!" he bellowed, his voice rising and falling like the sea, while more of his magic released itself in torrents, thunder cracked and lightning flashed all around, slaying dozens of orcs and other evil minions as they attempted to escape the wrath of _Eärendil_.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix had only just returned from reported their great success to the Dark Lord, just in time to see the giant flash of magical light and hear the shrieks of orcs as they were slain. A ripple of magic now permeated the air, and it was most familiar to the dark witch now.

Potter.

The boy Lord was here now, in this underground chambers. Another wonderful opportunity to slay him and become her Lord's most favored for all time. Peering around the finally corner to the bolt hole that the Goblins had hid themselves in, Bellatrix scowled at the devastation that the one wizard child could produce, bodies strewn everywhere, most burned beyond all recognition. The great iron doors were warped and imbedded in the cavern wall, thrown there with great force.

And still the boy stood there in the open, surrounded by the remaining orcs and few Death Eaters, but in an instant he was flying like a great predatory bird, darting from one foe to another, lashing with sword and jewel-tipped staff, causing far more damage than any of his opponents hoped to inflict upon him.

Bellatrix took several moments to watch, studying the boy as he fought. His magic was alive and flying from his form, unseen to those in whom magic did not run deeply. It flowed around Potter like the wings of a great bird, which did not harm the image he was cutting of a vengeful angel among his foes.

But if Potter represented an angel of light, then Bellatrix would clip his wings once and for all. Taking careful aim, she fired a Killing Curse into the melee, watching with glee as it pelted toward the wizard.

There was no way the boy ought to have dodged, or even seen her spell coming before it was too late, but still, miraculously, he turned at just the right moment, slamming his staff into the stones at his feet, and projecting a powerful shield that took the full impact of the Curse. It was magic beyond anything Bellatrix had faced, to be able to block the Curse of Death that was before inescapable. But it seemed that such power was free flowing in Potter and his little friends, as they had escaped certain death far too often to be mere chance.

Drawing her dagger, Bellatrix decided to take matters in hand far more directly. Cackling in delight she charged Potter, firing a barrage of curses as a distraction, she herded the boy to one side, allowing herself to reach deeply into her new set of magical talents. Summoning forth an illusion of horror, she flung the powerful spell at Potter, watching his eyes as he focused on the spell and whatever person fear it conjured for him.

The Boggart's apparition, a name she herself had coined for this powerful illusion, was swiftly becoming one of her favorites for dividing and conquering her enemies. Unlike the real creature, this illusion was not limited to taking upon one form to frighten, but would appear in the minds of every target as their worst nightmare.

Smirking as the boy occasionally, and possibly quite unconsciously, ducked and dodged attacks that were never there, she took the advantage and laid into the boy, unleashing her full repertoire of Dark Magic, slowly whittling down the Potter's defenses, drawing closer to the final downfall of the Dark Lord's most hated enemy.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry knew that the image of Faykan, possessed and crazed, was an illusion, but it didn't help his mind as he tried to focus on fighting Bellatrix as the apparition shot powerful, and very real seeming spells at him.

Back and forth the three figures danced, but Harry knew Bellatrix only saw himself and she. He could have easily brought out the Phial once again and banished the specter, as well as heavily aided himself fighting the witch, but he had already used a massive amount of his personal magic in destroying the initial assault of orcs. Quickly looking back, he saw that almost all of the goblins were safely away, and Ron, Draco and Hermione were casting concerned glances back at him as he fought with Bellatrix.

It was just a few minutes longer, and he would no longer be alone in this fight. Bellatrix had started to alternate between wand and her long dagger, often getting dangerously close to inflicting deep wounds on Harry, but _Hadhafang_ met the smaller blade every time, parrying it safely away and oft times returning a strike that pushed the mad witch back several steps.

The illusion of Faykan laughed darkly as he began channeling a spell, and Harry tried very hard to focus away from it, but he felt his eyes and mind drawn to the dark image. Pulled from his own memories of events only hours previous, the twisted form of his best friend danced around the pair of real combatants, and conjured a massive ball of flame and darkness, and Harry couldn't stop himself from leaping backwards to avoid the false attack. Bellatrix struck just then, slicing his sword arm deeply with her dagger, and Harry had to fight just to keep from dropping _Hadhafang_. Quickly stowing the weapon, he dodged back from her follow up attack, and slammed the jeweled head of his staff into her stomach, blasting her backward with the magical force behind the artifact.

"It'll take more than that to stop me, Potter!" Bellatrix sneered, jabbing her wand at him in retaliation, and sending jets of inky blackness at him. Harry erected a shield if light in retaliation, but he could feel his already greatly depleted reserves of strength fading.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco had just escorted the last of the goblin refugees through the portal when he heard Hermione scream. Turning to look, he saw Harry battling with Bellatrix, and beyond them, a fresh horde of orcs and Death Eaters flooding the passage as they stampeded toward their position.

"Come on!" Ron yelled, drawing his spear and charging at Bellatrix, Hermione following behind with her bow strung and loaded. The men of Rohan looked hesitantly at Draco, waiting for a command. A fire exploded in Draco's stomach, and he raised _Andúril_ , "Elendil! Elendil!" The men roared their battle cries, and as one, they hurtled after his friends, Draco at their head.

Bellatrix's head snapped up as they thundered towards her and Harry, and she grinned as she leveled her wand on them. "No!" Harry yelled, and a powerful blast from his staff knocked the witch flying. But the orcs were upon them already, and Draco, along with Hermione and Ron, had to fight their way to their friend, weapons quickly becoming drenched in black blood.

As they reached him, Draco spotted instantly that Harry was wounded, his sword arm seeping blood as he held it tightly to his chest. Quickly, they formed a ring around Harry, and the Rohirrim warriors built upon their formation instantly, slowly expanding outward as they widened the circle of death.

"Draco…" Harry said haggardly, pulling him back from the front line of the circle, "the sword, use _Andúril's_ might!"

Draco widened his eyes, understanding what Harry asked of him, but afraid of unleashing the full power of the sword. _Andúril_ had had many names and titles throughout the ages of men, Excalibur being one of the more famous, but there was another, with a massive legend all its own: the Ashbringer; a weapon sent from heaven to smite the forces of darkness with the fires of judgment.

Seeing that they were soon to be overwhelmed, and that Harry was in no more shape to safely use his massive power, Draco nodded solemnly. Drawing on his personal magic, and tapping into the font the sword possessed from the myriads of hands it had passed through to him, Draco raised the weapon high. Harry placed his hand on Draco's should, and he felt the black haired boy push even more magical strength into him, even as Draco felt a damn of fiery indignation explode in his chest.

These orcs were threatening the people of Middle Earth, subjects that were rightfully Draco's own, people and beings that he himself was chosen to lead and protect. The flames all along the blade roared as they swelled in size, turning from red-orange to blue and finally pure white. Turning upon the nearest foe, Draco saw the blackest form of evil, and swung his weapon.

The orc had no time to even cry out, it was incinerated in a moment. Time seemed to slow around Draco as he calmly moved from emend to enemy, bringing down the full measure of the Valar's wrath upon them with every stroke of the Flame of the West.

Soon the orcs were fleeing, and in their midst Bellatrix vanished without a trace. Draco, guided and sustained by the rage of _Andúril_ , aimed the sword at the tunnel that connected their chamber to the rest of the bank. Flames leapt from the blade, blasting and searing the stones of the cavern, caving in the section of stone and blocking out the orcs from ever again coming upon them by that route.

Satisfied, the sword returned to its original state, leaving Draco feeling drained and somewhat at peace. The men of Rohan that survived cheered at the display of the sword of Kings, and at their victory.

The return to Orthanc was mostly a blur for Draco, as he tried to rationalize what he had experienced when the sword itself had unleashed its powerful magic. There seemed little end to the abilities that the blade possessed, and there was no doubt in his mind that the stories passed down from generation to generation, under whatever name the blade had been given, were all true.

As Ron, Hermione and Harry settled matters with the goblins and the warriors that returned with them, Draco turned for his own room. Feeling suddenly more tired than he had ever been in his life, he knew that he needed sleep immediately. Even as he collapsed on his bed fully clothed, he could still feel the pulse of magical power from the sword, just waiting for the next time its power was needed.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione knew that Harry was dead on his feet from the battle far under Gringotts just from looking at him, not that it stopped the boy from making absolutely certain that their new residents had everything that they would need.

As they finally made their way back to the tower however, she nudged Ron, who glanced at Harry, and understandingly supported him as they climbed the stairs to the great front doors. "No, really I'm fine," Harry protested as they entered.

"Like hells you are," said a new voice as they passed the archway into the main room with the Palantír.

"Faykan, you're awake!" Hermione said happily, turning to see the boy sitting in a chair by the far flights of stairs up to the tower rooms. They all embraced, Hermione noticing that Faykan cringed slightly as he was moved suddenly.

"Yes," he affirmed, "albeit a little worse for wear than I'd like, not that you lot have anything to complain about… what happened?"

They explained, taking time to make sure they covered all the important details of the plea from Gringotts and the subsequent battles in the deep caverns of the Goblin Nation. Faykan listened passively throughout their tale, seeming to be deep in thought over the events.

When they finished, the ancient Istari slammed a hand down on his chair arm in frustration, rising quickly. "This has gone on far too long." He said swiftly, beginning to pace angrily, "We have allowed ourselves to be pushed onto the defensive, fighting a war that is slowly losing us ground. We've nearly lost many of our friends, and so many warriors have laid down their lives to keep Voldemort at bay. No more!"

Faykan paused, his eyes burning with fury, "We must take the fight to Voldemort's strongholds, drive him from our lands and away from those we are trying to protect."

Hermione agreed in her heart, but the problems that line of actions created still worried her. "Where would we even begin?" Ron said, "It's not like we really know where any of his bases are…"

Faykan's eyes flashed dangerously as he smiled, "Oh, but we know one of them, and it's probably the central hub of his command… but getting in is the problem that only Draco can solve for us…"

And with those words, Faykan turned and slowly ascended the stairs.

Harry and Ron followed soon after, the red haired boy helping their friend get to his room to rest. Hermione tried to distract herself for a short while, but she couldn't get the constant questions out of her mind.

How exactly were they going to get the location of one of Voldemort's base from Draco? She guessed that Faykan had meant Malfoy Manor by the reference to Draco, but if he had been thrown out of the family by his father, wouldn't any defensive wards hold him out as well? The list grew longer and longer as she thought about it, and there seemed no immediate relief in the form of answers.

It would be so much easier if they had an inside man that could feed them information about where and when to strike… Hermione started, realizing the blindness in her fretting over the complexity of the problem. Of course they had an inside man, or at least the next best thing.

Sprinting up the stairs for her room, Hermione withdrew the portrait of Headmaster Black that they had claimed from Grimmauld Place. Professor Snape would be more than capable of helping them in this task.

 _Târik 'n dâira, kan kâtha abâr 'n ugru êphalak. Agan yakalubîm azgarâuruk nakh nimirad! -_ Pillar of earth, hold all strength of shadow far away. Death fall upon warring orcs who approach this protected place! ( _Númenórean)_

 _enni Elbereth vellas : Elbereth give me strength…_


	11. Chapter 10

**Tuesday Eve has come again, and come, sit by this fire, (computer generated or real, no biggie,) and enjoy another segment of the fantastic tale of our brave heroes, and their quest to stop the madness of a Dark Lord bent on conquering the world.**

 **Chapter Ten**

 **Work and Rest**

Severus was exhausted as he returned to the Headmaster's tower at the end of the day. His mark had been burning from the Dark Lord's persistent anger the entire afternoon, and even though he no longer was teaching any classes, the stress of managing the children still fell heavily on him, albeit for far different reasons than before.

So returning to this study to hear the voice of Phineas Nigellus Black calling him was met with mixed emotions. Naturally hearing from the other Slytherin Headmaster was a positive sign of Harry's group, especially when they were requesting his assistance, but at the same time, with all the stresses and forces perceptions that he had to perform and endure, adding one more thing to the list was not something he wanted at the moment.

Once he heard what the request was, and why, Severus had to sit down. Inside information about Malfoy Manor, there could be only one reason that they would want to know about that darkened place. But to attack the Dark Lord's fortress and seat of power was not wise. Not only was the Dark Lord himself present to complicate any attempted assault, but there were legions of orcs in residence now. How Lucius put up with the desecration of his home Severus never understood, but if Narcissa hadn't already left him, she would have done so now.

However, there just might be a way for Severus to limit the likelihood that they faced the Dark Lord at Malfoy Manor, given that they could get inside on their own. Severus himself could go there as an invited guest, but he could not bring others with him, nor could he divulge the secret location of the base.

Quickly dictating a reply to Phineas Nigellus, Severus started to plan how he would manage to distract the Dark Lord long enough for an attack to happen, without giving away his divided loyalties and being killed by the man in the process.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

When Draco finally awoke again, he was surprised to find Faykan sitting in his room, calmly reading from one of the many books that had come from his Hogwart's trunk. "Fay…" Draco said as he turned to face him.

"Good afternoon Draco," Faykan replied, and Draco had to check the time, shocked that he had slept for so long, "You seem to have truly needed your rest from you adventure in the bowels of Gringotts," Faykan commented with a small smile.

"I guess…" Draco responded, uncertain why Faykan was waiting for him specifically.

Faykan seemed to sense Draco's unease, because he closed the book and turned to face him with a deathly serious look.

"Draco, I need to ask something of you that may be both difficult and perhaps very painful for you to hear." Faykan said.

"What is it?" Draco asked nervously, unsure if he wanted to know what was wanted on him.

If anything, Faykan seemed to grow more serious, "We're losing this war Draco, Voldemort is able to strike at our allies and weak points, while we can do little more than defend and prevent loss of innocent life. We need a turning point Draco and there is only one major base of operations that Voldemort controls that I am aware of."

Draco's eye widened as he realized where the line of thought was going, "Malfoy Manor…"

"Yes," Faykan affirmed, "While I am certain that Lucius has blocked me from entering his family home, your status as his blood child grants you rights to enter his home, against his wishes or not. No family house, once tied to the blood of that family, can reject one of its own. You can lead us there, and we can strike a blow to Voldemort that he will have difficulty recovering from."

Feeling the pressure of the request, Draco sat in silence for several long moments. "I wouldn't place this kind of decision upon you unless I felt it was absolutely necessary Draco," Faykan said sadly, "I know that Lucius still loves you, and you him regardless of the rift between you both. Betraying a family trust is a deep and abiding blow, but I ask you to look beyond yourself to the good of the wizarding world instead."

Faykan stood, nodding once slowly, "I will give you time to think about our need, but we don't have the time for you to contemplate it for too long. The more we wait and fight on the defensive, the stronger Voldemort's grasp on our world becomes."

Draco barely heard Faykan's words, nor the soft click as the door closed behind the Istari, so lost in his own thoughts. All pureblood families operated by a strict level of guidelines when it came to family property and rifts. If Draco led warriors of an opposing faction to his father's house, that could be seen as the deepest of betrayals to his old family name and way of life.

But at the same time, he understood why Faykan had had to come to him for this, and there was indeed little option if they wanted to actually attack Voldemort's holdings for a change. Much as it pained him to do so, he must confront his family, the banishment from it, and his entire past life in one fell swoop, striking deeply to rid their family of the stain placed there by Voldemort.

There was no getting around the fact that Voldemort needed to be stopped at all costs, even at the lost of home and family. Draco understood and accepted this, even as much as he didn't like it. Gathering his resolve, Draco stood. If his actions could spare others from this same fate, then he would gladly sacrifice what was left of his old family's honor.

Faykan, along with the others were waiting in an upper library of Orthanc. "I've decided to help you with the location of Malfoy Manor," he said slowly.

Hermione and Ron looked surprised at his announcement, but Harry and Faykan shared identical looks of understanding and acceptance. "Thank you Draco," Faykan replied, "now our planning for the turning of the tide of this war can begin."

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Voldemort was overall pleased with the effectiveness of Bellatrix's attack on the goblin bank and subsequent rebuff of the Light's counter attack. The fact that Potter was injured and sent away from the battlefield was a bonus, as it bought the shadow hunters time to close in on their base of operation.

The attack on the ministry was an excellent stepping stone to the Light's inevitable defeat, as all three groups had managed to acquire the required samples from Potter to track him wherever he fled to. Soon their little fortress would be eliminated, and the largest resistance to his rule would be shattered.

In the meantime, he was free to continue the campaign against the rest of Europe. It had already begun, as his vast hordes crossed the channel into the surrounding nations, lead by the Dark Lord himself. He had led his followers and armies from the shadows for long enough.

Abdurahman would accompany him, and as they carved a blazing path across Europe the pair of practiced necromancers would raise legions of inferi to bolster his armies. Lucius was suitably trustworthy enough to lead while he was expanding his new empire of darkness, while Bellatrix acted as enforcer of his will. With Severus and the Carrows at Hogwarts, there was little the citizens of wizarding Britain would dare to do to oppose him.

Even still, the Dark Lord of the Earth was cautious. He specifically left a significant number of warriors in Britain, centered on the Malfoy's manor house as a defense. He knew that there were many factors left in Britain that, if they happened to work together, could topple his powerbase while he was away. Lord Voldemort would not leave that to chance, however slight.

But now, as he stood upon the wide fields before the French boarders, an army of orcs and battle trolls at his back, he could not help but push the thoughts of Britain from his mind. The land would be covered in darkness, by his own hand, and the world would learn that he, Voldemort, was its master. The ring upon his hand glowed fiercely in the predawn gloom, and the Dark Lord smiled at his approaching victory.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione was almost frightened at the pace that Harry and Faykan worked once Draco announced his willingness to reveal the location of his family's manor. Plans and maps, all magically generated, piled up on various tables and creeping along the floor as they made strategies and contingencies for every possibility.

Day after day the pair was locked away in the upper libraries, pouring over every scrap of information that Draco and Faykan had regarding the layout of Malfoy Manor, and its strengths and weaknesses. Ron help occasionally, but even he admitted to Hermione that some of the tactics they were discussing were levels far above and beyond anything he would consider for one battle.

It was almost as if the pair expected every bad event possible to occur all at once. Hermione wasn't sure if it was merely an intense desire to save as many lives in the coming battle that was likely to be very costly, but it was breaching the line of an obsession, and clearly unhealthy for them both to be sequestered like that. War or no war, Christmas was approaching, and Hermione felt that they needed to do something to raise their spirits.

At the same time, while she thought it would be good to celebrate with all those at Orthanc, they desperately needed time to themselves, away from the war, and the responsibility, if only for a single evening.

That was how she started formulating her little plan. For all intents and purposes, neither Faykan or Harry hinted at this battle taking place sooner than the new year, so a small side trip to a small partially wizarding village for Christmas Eve would be a simply thing to slip in, she thought.

Even Phineas Nigellus Black had kept them all up to date with the goings on at Hogwarts, pleased that so many Gryffindors were in full support of a Slytherin Headmaster. Severus had reinstated several of Umbridge's old decrees, public supporting the Death Eater Professors in trying to crush any resistance among the student body. But, secretly, he was directing the counterattacks of the reborn Dumbledore's Army, causing havoc enough at the school to keep the Carrows preoccupied and unaware of his own actions.

In addition, they had learned that Voldemort had gone abroad, taking his campaign to the main continent, and marching with his hordes upon the nearest nations. While they sent messages as rapidly as they could to warn these nations and people of the advancing darkness, there was little they could do to head off and assault Voldemort and his army head on, not without the Horcruxes destroyed so that the monster could be killed once and for all.

It was all the more reason for them to take this small reprieve, while they still had the chance. The attack on Malfoy Manor would no doubt return all of Voldemort's attention to Britain, bringing him back with all his forces, and they would remain in a constant state of open war until it was all over.

Ron and Draco had listened to her plan, and agreed completely, including her chosen location, but the hardest part yet remained, convincing Faykan and Harry to put aside one day, or even just an evening, to relax.

Hermione approached the pair a few days before Christmas, nervous at how they'd react to the idea of relaxing during the holiday.

"Yes Hermione," Harry asked as she entered, without looking up from the large floor plan of Malfoy Manor, "What can we do for you?"

"Harry, Faykan," Hermione started, looking at both on them and waiting until they paused to meet her eyes, "We all know how important this coming battle is, and the complicated requirements that need to go into it, however is nearly Christmas. Ron, Draco and I all think we need to take some time, an evening at the least, and unwind, allow our minds to relax and rest. That's just as important as our battle plans, is it not?"

She watched as the pair of powerful wizards shared a meaning filled glance, before both smiled warmly, "You are indeed most correct Hermione, as always. We need to prepare ourselves just as much as our strategies or soldiers, and a small venture out into the fresh air may give us fresh ideas as well for the latter."

Hermione smiled, "It's settled then. Don't worry about a thing on Christmas, I have it all planned out…"

Harry laughed softly, "I'm not surprised, but thank you Hermione."

Faykan also smiled, "It will be nice to have a relaxing day for a change."

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry could actually say that he was excited for Christmas for once in his life. the long process of day in and day out planning for the assault of Malfoy Manor was a draining process, but between himself and Faykan, they had managed to prepare what forces would be best to bring, where to deploy them, and how to react to almost all foreseeable countermeasures.

Now however, it was time for them all to prepare mentally for the coming conflict. On the appointed day; Christmas Eve, they had a large celebration during the day for all those at Orthanc, to allow them to rest from their many labors in keeping the camp running, and indulge in games and gift giving. But the best part was yet to come.

That evening, Harry, Faykan, Ron and Draco all met Hermione on the roof of Orthanc, where she held a small token that pulsed with transportation magic. Offering them the Portkey, she smiled quietly, teasing them to try and guess where they were going to go.

Rather than simply humor her, Harry and Faykan took hold of the Portkey, waiting to be surprised by the location of their small getaway. In a flash of light and a whirling of colors they were off. When they finally landed, Harry immediately recognized the colder air of Britain, and snow beneath his feet.

They were standing in a snowy lane under a rapidly darkening sky, with a blanket of stars overhead just starting to twinkle into sight. Cottages stood on either side of the narrow road, Christmas decorations glowing softly in the windows. A short way ahead, golden streetlights indicated a small village center.

"So, spill Hermione, where are we?" Faykan asked, bemused at how long they had kept the secret.

"Godric's Hollow," Hermione responded delightedly, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. Godric's Hollow was where his parent's had lived before Voldemort attack and destroyed his family. They had been here only once before, for the short ceremony after Sirius' death.

"So that means," he said, trailing off as he looked around for the small church that housed the cemetery where most of his loved ones laid to rest. Starting forward through the snow, he barely felt the icy air stinging his face as he passed house after house. He had no memory of the home he had lived in here, and it could have been any of these that they passed, or if he'd be able to see it at all. If the Fidelius Charm still was in effect, could the house have simply disappeared forever when the subjects of the spell died within?

The lane they were walking along curved gently to the left, and opened up into the village center proper, with a war memorial in the middle of it, strung with colored lights and partly obscured by a windblown Christmas tree.

The last few remaining people were closing up their shops and heading home as the sun dipped below the horizon, illuminated by the streetlamps. A nearby pub's door opened and closed again, and there was a snatch of laughter and pop music from within before near silence took over the village once again.

And then Harry saw it, the little church that they had come to two summers ago. A sense of longing filled him, as he started toward the building instinctively, Faykan and the others following close behind. They all paused halfway across the square however, when the war memorial shimmered out of the corner of their eyes.

Turning to look at it, Harry gaped as he saw that the obelisk covered with names was replaced by a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. Snow lay upon all their heads, like fluffy white caps.

Drawn closer by curiosity, Harry gazed up into the faces of his parents. He had never imagined a statue being here for them, and for a few moments he thought about how strange it was to see himself represented in stone, a happy baby with no scar on his forehead. A profound sadness filled the air as he wondered what might have happened if Voldemort had never entered his or his parent's lives.

Turning back to the church after he had looked his fill, Harry led the others across the road and toward side gate that led around the building. The sounds of singing grew louder as they approached the open doors of the church. Harry was reminded of Hogwarts for a moment, with the statues and suits of armor that would sing, albeit poorly, around this time of year, and he wondered how the other students were faring under the oppression of Voldemort's servants.

They opened the rusty gate to the graveyard, setting off on the slippery path through the fields of snow that lay deep and untouched. As they entered the back part of the church, where the graves lay, Harry suddenly realized that he had no memory of exactly where his parents and Sirius' graves were located.

"This way," Faykan said softly, pointing out to the rear of the rows of graves. They set off, wading deeper and deeper into the churchyard, and gouging deep tracks into the thickening snow behind them. Every so often Hermione or Draco would stop and look at a grave that they passed, but Faykan proceeded directly to a secluded nook of the yard, and pointed to a large, white marble headstone, with a smaller stone on the left side and an empty plot on the right.

"There," Faykan said, stepping back and allowing Harry privacy as he looked at the final resting place of his family. Harry remembered the exact words that had been written there, on both his parents and Sirius' tombstones, burned into his mind since that day two years ago that he saw them for the first time.

' _James Potter_

 _Born 27 March 1960_

 _Died 31 October 1981_ '

' _Lily Potter_

 _Born 30 January 1960_

 _Died 31 October 1981_ '

' _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._ '

And the second read,

' _Sirius 'Padfoot' Black_

 _Born August 25 1959_

 _Died June 18 1996_

 _Mischief Managed_ '

Reading the words this time didn't bring tears or pain for Harry. Instead, it was more of a comfort, as his vision of what the world was like had expanded beyond measure since he was last here. He understood know what was meant by his parent's quotation on their tombstone. Death was not the end-all enemy that Voldemort believed it to be, not some nameless fear that resided in the hearts of men.

Death was just another path, a doorway that all must pass eventually, and beyond that lay a brighter future than the one left behind. And that thought gave him peace. Turning back to face his friends, he smiled. "Thank you for bringing us here, Hermione. It means quite a lot to me." He said warmly.

Pointing her wand, Hermione smiled back as she conjured a wreath of flowers over Lily and James' grave, while Faykan did the same for Sirius. After a few additional moments of silence, Harry turned back toward the gate back to the front of the church, and started to walk back to the village center.

But, just as he reached the gate, something shifted in the air, and Harry froze. There was far too much magic in the village now, much more than when they had first arrived.

"Harry, what is it?" Draco asked, looking between him and Faykan, who had also gone stiff.

"We're not alone…" Harry said carefully, readying his weapons. The others immediately followed, Ron, Draco and Hermione casting silencing and notice-me-not charms at the nearby buildings to protect the muggles dwelling within from coming outside to the probable battle.

Harry silently mourned that even their one day of rest was to be stained by battle and war, but it was unavoidable. With as much of the village as they could reach from the cemetery protected, they cautiously ventured out into the main village square. Dark creatures were already there, waiting for them. The leader, who Harry recognized as Fenrir Greyback, smiled toothily as they came into view.

"Well, looks like our prey has finally come out to play…" he taunted, motioning for his fellow werewolves to advance. They were a grisly lot, with filthy, unkempt bodies that reeked of blood and sweat, and Harry knew that any wounds from these were sure to be infectious of the disease. Greyback would have made certain of that for his pack.

Keeping in a tight formation, Harry raised his staff. He would not permit his friends, the only loved ones he truly had left, from death or a life ridden with pain and anguish from the werewolf's curse. The emerald atop his staff blazed with a brilliant light, responding to his determination and force of will.

The first werewolf to try and cross him was met with a blast of power that sent the large man flying back into his fellows. Battle began in earnest, Harry and his companions bringing all their fury and weapons to bear. The weapons of the elves, made of Moria-silver, flashed with blue fire and burned the dark creatures where they were struck.

The werewolves howled and snarled, but kept coming, driven by a fiery passion to slay them, and Harry knew that eventually some innocent would be drawn to the noise of battle, and caught in the crossfire. This he could not allow. With an earth-shattering crack, he slammed his staff into the ground, knocking all the werewolves from their feet, and lashed out with _Hadhafang_. Flames, red orange and blue white flew out in a great ring, scorching their foes and forcing the werewolves to back off in fear of the blessed fire.

Something lunged just then from the shadows, aimed directly for Harry's heart. "Harry!" Draco yelled, throwing himself in the way. _Andúril_ blazed as it carved a path through the air, splitting the massive snake in two as it tried to attack. Shadowy darkness erupted from the severed body, screaming in the night as it fled into the sky.

The werewolves cringed at the sound, before a brilliant flash from Faykan's staff destroyed their remaining resolve, and they fled.

Harry turned to Draco, who was looking curiously at the blackened stain on _Andúril's_ blade. "Draco," he said, pausing at a loss for words. There was no doubt that the creature that had leapt at him was Nagini, the serpent familiar and Horcrux of Voldemort.

"Four down, two to go…" Draco said, smirking back.

Harry nodded. They were one step closer to beating Voldemort. "We ought to return to Orthanc, before Greyback decides to try again." Faykan said, before quickly ushering them back to a vacant alleyway, and taking the portkey back to the secured vale of Isengard.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Voldemort paused for a moment in midst of his glorious attack of the first of the French magical communities. A strange sensation had come over him, but by the time he noticed it had passed. Most strange, but the Dark Lord of the Earth had more important concerns than a fleeting sensation in his physical body to deal with. He was immortal, and there was nothing on this earth that could truly harm him. He continued his slaughter with vigor, relishing the outlet for all his irritations over the past sixteen years.

Nevertheless, he had a small inkling that his personal enemies back in the homeland were up to something. His ring of power pulsed at the thought, seeming to affirm his suspicion that he must be cautious regarding allowing his servants, who had already proved themselves incompetent, run his country. Once he was finished here therefore, the Dark Lord would return to Britain, and crush those foolish resistors personally, once and for all.

Striding through the sea of rubble and corpses, Voldemort struck down two French wizards with little more than a flick of his wand, still intently lost in his own musings. These peasants were no match for him, and their pain and suffering would only postpone his rage until he at last had Potter trampled underfoot. Once they boy was at last slain, the rest of the world would fall, with none capable to rise up against him. Darkness would consume the world, and he would reign over it forever.

Yes, things must be accelerated to that end. His servants were not performing as they had promised, and Lord Voldemort was greatly displeased with them. He could not afford to be patient enough to wait for the shadow hunters any longer, they had had plenty of time to find, track and eliminate Potter by now, and the continued fight that they boy's forces put up was testament to the hunters' failure. Lord Voldemort would carve a blazing path across the whole of the west if he had to, and flush those rats out of their hiding place once and for all.

And once they did, they would taste the vengeance of the Dark Lord of the Earth, the only being able to withstand death and the only man worthy of ruling this pitiful speck of dust.

Smirking with suppressed delight, Lord Voldemort raised his wand, signaling to his forces to redouble their attack on the village. The sooner it fell, the quicker they could move on, and press forward to the main Wizarding district of the southern country. The Dark Mark flashed into the sky as terror descended upon the residents of the French countryside. They would know that their new Lord had come, and they would surrender or die by his hand.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco sought our Hermione shortly after Boxing Day, when the excitement and misfortune of their adventure in Godric's Hollow had finally blown over. Faykan and Harry both threw themselves back into their work, but now they not only focused on the assault of Malfoy Manor, but seeking out how these dark creatures had been tracking them, and what measures could be taken to prevent them from continuing to do so.

Hermione had retreated to the small balcony midway up the spire of Orthanc, and Draco was not surprised to find her there with a book in her hands. Clearly the effects of the attack on their day of rest had had much the same effect on her as the two powerful wizards. As Draco approached, she sighed, setting the book aside and staring out over the line of trees to the east.

"Knut for your thoughts Hermione?" Draco asked, peering at the book she had set aside, and wrinkling his brow in confusion when he saw it was the 'Tales of Beedle the Bard.'

"I just don't understand why there is this symbol here in this book," she said after looking at his concerned face. Hefting the storybook again she flipped through the pages, stopping at the beginning of the 'tale of three brothers.' once there, she pointed to a clearly hand written symbol at the top corner of the page, a vertical line set within a circle, all surrounded by a triangle.

"I have never no idea what that symbol could mean," Draco admitted, shaking his head. But at the same time, he was sure he had seen it somewhere before, but he couldn't place it.

"It just seems so familiar," Hermione said, echoing Draco's own thoughts. "Have you brought this to Faykan or Harry, perhaps they have some idea." he asked, but the girl shook he rhead.

"No, it doesn't seem that important compared to what they're doing, even if it was something in the book that Dumbledore left for me..."

"What's in the book Dumbledore left for you?" said a voice behind them. Turning, Draco spotted Harry and Faykan walking toward them from the spiral staircase at the center of the tower. Apparently they decided to start taking breaks and socializing with the rest of them. It was a positive change since Godric's Hollow, and Draco was glad for it.

"This," Hermione said, showing Faykan the symbol in the book. The Istari frowned, tracing the symbol and thinking hard. "It is of little consequence to our mission," he said after a moment.

"What is it?" Draco asked, looking at Faykan. The black haired boy sat in a spare chair, pulling out his pipe and looking down onto the wide lawns before the tower. Down in the camp, Ron was training several of the older boys from the refugees with martial weapons, acting for all accounts like a seasoned general before his troops.

"It's a symbol tied with the legend of the Deathly Hallows," Faykan said after lighting his pipe and taking a long pull, sending the smoke floating gently into the cool Germanic sky.

"Much as many legends and fairy tales of times long past, some people believe that the tale of three brothers was in fact a true account, referring to the Peverell brothers, and their encounter with beings that were beyond their imaging, whom wizards pursuing the story only refer to as Death."

Faykan took another long drag on the pipe, sending a perfect smoke ring floating over the balcony, "Legend says that these three brothers, Antioch, Cadmus and Ignortus, received gifts from Death for an act that defied his powers. A wand that could not be defeated in battle, a stone that could call the dead back to this world, and a cloak that would conceal the wearer perfectly, with no flaws to tarnish it or damage that age could cause it."

Draco felt that there was yet more, even as Faykan fell silent. Hermione clearly felt the same, as she pressed further, "You seem to be well informed about this particular theory Fay, is there more that perhaps time had forgotten?"

Faykan smiled as he faced her, "Now you are asking true questions regarding this. I do indeed know much, much more about this story, as I was there. The three wizards, much as the tale tells, used their powers to cross a river, but what time has forgotten was that it was in actually a flood that they prevented from wiping out countless innocent people, wizard and muggle alike. The Peverall brothers were great heroes, Champions of the Light, and dear friends."

Faykan paused in reflection, smiling at the memory of the three brothers. "They met not death at that time, but we, the remaining Istari, the greatest sorcerers that walked the earth at the time, I, Palando the Cyan, and Radagast the Brown. We were journeying to see off our beloved ally, Radagast, who had fulfilled his mission for the Valar, and was to return home to the lands of the West, when we witnessed these heroes in action once again. Seeing their light and purity, we revealed ourselves to them, and presented them with gifts for their courage and selflessness."

Withdrawing a wand from his robes, Faykan held it up to the light, "Radagast gave his own staff to Antioch, whose skill and wisdom we had not seen in countless lifetimes. Palando created from his own cloak, a shroud of concealment that could never be countered by mortal magic, and presented it to Ignotus, to help protect them from those who would seek to stop their noble work. And I..." Faykan paused, growing quiet as he relived the tale, "I took a stone washed smooth from the flood, and enchanted it with powers to create echoes of the dead, so that the three brothers could right the wrongs of the world, be guardians of justice and peace, much as we were."

Turning the wand in his hand, Faykan displayed, carved in the very bottom, the same symbol that was in Hermione's book. "Alas, things fade with time, and the three brothers went the way of all the earth, two caught by their own folly and mortality. Only Ignotus held true to the end of his days, and passed his gift down to his sons."

Deep sadness filled Faykan's face, "The stone fell out of all memory, although it too was passed down to Cadmus' heirs, they had no knowledge of what it could do or where it had come. And saddest of all was the fate of poor Antioch. The mighty man of justice was cut down by treachery, by those he supposed were his friends, over the tool that he was given by Radagast. That act tainted the focus, and its passing through history has been both bloody and terrible, until it finally found its way back into my possession."

"That was Dumbledore's wand, wasn't it," Harry said, nodding at the item in Faykan's hand.

"Yes," Faykan affirmed, "and he is to be the final mortal owner of the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick, or Elder Wand as it has been know of in the past. I will keep it until the end of my days, so that no more sorrow or blood will be shed by it ever again. Radagast would be devastated to know that his gift to men had been used for so much evil."

"What became of the other two?" Hermione asked, "Where are they now?"

"One is here with us now, and the other I know not what became of it." Faykan responded, smiling. "Care to guess?" he teased. Hermione looked baffled at the challenge, but Draco thought hard, a cloak and a stone, he knew he had seen one of them before among them... then it hit him, "Harry's cloak," he said, and Faykan smiled in response, "Indeed. Ignotus respected and used his gift wisely, before it passed from father to son down through the ages, down to the Potters."

They all sat in silence for several moments, just drinking in the wonder of the information they'd been told, but Faykan eventually cleared his throat, "As I said, it makes no difference to us in the long run, Albus had no means of knowing that the Deathly Hallows were not what rumor and legend said they were. The Master of Death nonsense came much later, when treasure seekers found the story and dreamed of artifacts containing great power. Right now we need to focus on the here and now, planning for the future, and not times long past."

Draco saw the wisdom in Faykan words, but at the same time it had been nice to think, even for a moment, of some magical artifacts that could have countered Voldemort and his Horcruxes; Hallows versus Horcruxes in a battle of light and darkness. It couldn't have been more poetic, but at the same time, even without the Hallows or their mystical abilities, they had plenty of Light on their side as it was. They had to win, and Draco knew that he must play an important role in the downfall of the Dark Lord, he just wasn't sure where or when that part would reveal itself.


	12. Chapter 11

**Many thanks to those who keep reviewing and messaging me regarding this story. Keep up the support, as it aids me in all the endeavors I attend to regarding what future stories we will visit when these have run their course. Enjoy.**

 **Chapter Eleven**

 **Family Reunion**

The time had come.

Hermione stood nervously in central room of Orthanc, waiting for the final preparations to be completed for the assault of Malfoy Manor. Draco was off to the opposite side of the room, deep in conversation with Cælin, Marshal of the Westfold and chief advisor to King Ceolwulf of Rohan, while Ron was making last minute strategy changes with Gornuk, who was reprising his role as the white council representative for Ragnok, exiled Lord of Gringotts.

They were all waiting for Harry and Faykan to return with word from the dwarves and the Beornings, either of which would prove to be vital allies for this fight. The forces of Rohan, while strong and still quite high in numbers, were stretched too thin, and the massive number of battles was quickly wearing them all out. Fresh soldiers were needed to reinforce this offensive, and either race should be spoiling for a chance to fight orcs.

The sharp crack of apparition drew all their attention, and Hermione frowned sadly to see Harry appear, alone, in the room with them. He shook his head as he approached. "The Dwarves are too preoccupied with securing their new boarders and stabilizing their kingdom since the death of Náin. Thráin would want nothing more than to commit troops to our cause, but it just isn't possible for them at this time."

Hermione was saddened. She had not yet had the pleasure of meeting the new king Under the Mountain, and from what she heard he sounded like a jovial fellow. "However," Harry continued, catching her attention once again, "my errand to them was not unfruitful. Even now the dwarves in all their many lands are forging with all haste, creating arms and armor to supply armies by the tens of thousands. They are more than committed to our cause, and when the need comes, they shall heed the call to war. It is simply too soon at this present hour."

"Still," Hermione said, uncomforted, "It is a hard thing to bear on our own right now. Will others come only when our need is dire?"

"Do not lose hope Hermione," Harry replied quickly, taking hold of her arm, "Fear not this oncoming darkness, for we will pass through to find the light beyond it."

"Well said, dear _Kentano_ ," sounded a clear voice from the door of the tower. Faykan entered, a smile lighting the room like a noonday sun. "We are not alone in this war, nor in this battle."

Behind him, towering well over the Istari and nearly brushing the arch of the doors, stood Beornhelm, leader and chieftain of the Beornings, his face grim and a broad axe in his hands.

Even more surprising was the person at the mighty Beornings' side. "Neville!" Ron called from across the room, and the former Hogwarts student surged together, pelting the once round-faced boy with many questions, chief among which was why he was no longer at the school himself.

"I escaped," Neville responded, smiling triumphantly, "with some help from the D.A. and Professor Snape."

He then went on to describe in great detail the atrocities that were going on at the school by Theodore Nott and the Carrow twins, each a glorified bully in their own right, as they forced the students to practice dark curses on each other and preaching heavy anti-muggle philosophy. Neville had taken charge of the D.A. in their absence, waging a war the likes of which only the pranks upon Umbridge had any chance of rivaling.

"But they knew that I was the ringleader," Neville explained, "So they wanted to make an example of me, but Professor Snape was notified, and smuggled me out of the castle and to my Gran's, who was in direct contact with her kin. So, here we are…" He shrugged then, smiling regardless despite the bruising and cuts that were still healing on his face.

"It is good to see you," Harry said, "We have a battle to win, if you're ready to fight?"

Neville grinned, looking far wilder than the boy had ever before, "I'm ready to take the fight back to the Death Eaters, any day, any time."

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix was infuriated at her Lord leaving her behind in Britain while he took the majority of their forces off to start conquering the world. Was she not the most loyal, most power, and most devoted of his followers?

And yet, here she was, guarding the home country while Lucius had his way with playing Minister from behind the scenes. It was downright unfair, and a complete waste of her skills and abilities.

As she stalked through the hallways of the large Wiltshire Manor, most of the wizards and other servants knew well to stay out of her way, but still… something felt out of place.

Pausing at a nearby window that looked out over Lucius' well over gaudy gardens and lawns that no one used anymore, she still couldn't shake away the sense of wrongness in the manor.

Just as she turned away from the window to find Lucius, a mighty explosion rocked the entire building, knocking her to her knees. Bellatrix could feel the wards dropping from every direction of the manor. But that was impossible, she had seen to strengthening the Malfoy wards herself. Only a blood relative could wrest control of them now…

Realization struck like a weighted blow. Draco had to be betraying their family secrets, allowing their enemies free access to his own father's home. The filthy little blood traitor. Sprinting like a proverbial demon, Bellatrix homed in on Lucius position in the main entryway. The master of the manor would have felt the wards drop as well, and would be readying their guards and the reserve warriors on the grounds for a battle.

Eager to join in the blossoming fight outside, Bellatrix skipped down the stairs toward the front doors, snarling at the flashes of light and clashes of metal that she spied through the many windows. Orcs were swarming from the underground caverns that had long been under construction on the manor grounds, clashing with massive men with wild beards and great axes in their hands and massive bear animagi.

She had never heard of so many wizards having the same form, but at the same time, she wouldn't put it past Alatar and his forces to dredge up some long lost force that had that ability.

As she reached the final landing of the manor's ground floor, which opened into a wide entrance hall much like Hogwarts, albeit less massive and grand, Bellatrix saw a full fledge battle had already broken out inside the Manor. Rohirric soldiers were pouring in from the great front doors, which had been blasted off their hinges in the chaos of the opening minutes of battle, and now orcs and Death Eaters, including Lucius himself, were desperately fighting to push the invaders back.

Cackling with blood fuelled glee, Bellatrix joined the fray, blasting a pair of attackers as she vaulted from the last steps. But even as she arrived, ready for a fight, the crowd gathered before the blasted entryway parted, revealing her most hated foes.

"Behold me family!" the blood traitor declared as he held his blasted sword aloft, even as the wards around the Manor bucked, fluctuating as they were modified by a blood member of the Malfoy name.

Bellatrix snarled as the boy's magic flared around him. She would rid their family of this stain, and purge these thorns from her Lord's side once and for all.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco gazed calmly across the entrance hall of what was once his home. It resembled nothing like what he remembered from his childhood. Aside from the blood and bodies that currently littered the floor, where was a subtly about it that spoke volumes of difference. The walls and pillars supporting the floor above hadn't been cleaned in a while, and the candles had all burned down to stubs.

Lucius clearly was at a loss how to manage his own home without Narcissa to assist him, and the filth that covered the far corners told a far darker story, regarding the vile orcs and their Death Eater allies that had taken up residence.

Worse still was the sense of darkness in the air. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Voldemort himself had been here for long periods of time, his evil aura leeching the very warmth and happiness from the building. A surge of warmth flowed through him from _Andúril_ , giving him the strength to speak what must be said to his wayward relatives.

Stepping forward, slightly away from Harry, Faykan and the rest, he opened his mouth, speaking the words as they came to his heart. "I am Draco, dragon of the house of _Telcontar_ , returned from my wrongful exile to announce the return of the days of the kings, and the brightening of the days of old!"

"You filthy blood traitor!" snarled his aunt, Bellatrix LeStrange, from the base of the main staircase. Nearby, Lucius stood with several of his fellows, gaping at Draco but making no move to stop him.

"The time has come Aunt," Draco countered, unafraid of her ranting, "Your precious Master is not here to stop us from ridding our bloodline of his taint. The tyranny of the Purebloods will come to an end!"

"Seize him!" the mad witch cried, causing the moment to be broken and battle to resume. Draco leapt into action, ducking the first orc blade that swung for his head, before spinning out of the way of a stray spell, before cleaving the beast with the king's sword.

Harry and Faykan on either side of him exploded into small whirlwinds of death, charging headlong into the thickest parts of the battle, staffs and swords sending foes all around them scrambling back for cover.

At the far end of the room, Bellatrix was shouting orders at the top of her lungs, even as she rolled her sleeve back to reveal the hideous Dark Mark on her arm. Draco knew what the woman was intending, and he couldn't allow her to ruin their attack by summoning Voldemort, and so he sprinting through the fray to reach her, _Andúril_ swinging high over his head.

Even as Bellatrix placed a finger to her Dark Mark, the sword of kings flashed, severing flesh and bone and sending the woman reeling back, her cackle of sick delight erased by a scream of pain. The loss of her left forearm aside, the damage was already done. A shout of pain was heard throughout the Death Eater ranks. Voldemort was aware.

There was little time left, they had to end this place of the Dark Lord's power before the man himself arrived. In a flash the Horn of Gondor was in his hand, its powerful notes blaring over the din of battle. With a roar, the great windows on the front of the Manor smashed inward, and Neville charged in, alongside several of the Beornings, skin changed and in their massive humanoid forms, wading through the orcs and destroying everything that stood in their way.

Looking around wildly for a sign of his father, Draco caught sight of him dragging Bellatrix away. As the enraged and quite mad witch thrashed in the man's arms, Lucius sent one look back at his son, before apparating away to some fallback base that they were as of yet unaware of.

Still, with the leaders of Voldemort's forces, as well as the Lord of the Manor fled, victory was more than assured. It was now simply a race against time to eliminate the remaining orcs and Death Eaters, salvage what they could from the Manor that could lead them to the next base or Horcrux, and withdraw before Voldemort arrived.

That was where Draco's intimate knowledge of the floor plan came to bear. While Neville, the Beornings, and the warriors of Rohan swept through the lower floors of the Manor and the grounds outside to clear it of every resource and enemy that they could, Draco led Faykan, Harry, Ron and Hermione up to his father's study, where he presumed that the man's most private documents would be stored, and hopefully something that would assist them may be found.

They encountered little resistance on the second floor, and what foe did try to stop them were quickly put down through the combined magical prowess of Faykan and Harry, the two working in perfect tandem as they rounded corners and charged down the corridors.

As they arrived outside Lucius' private study, Draco could feel the man's personal wards outside the door; prevent all entrance aside from Lucius himself. Pointing _Andúril_ at the door, Draco felt the spirit of _Eldarion_ surge through him, and a blast of magical energy launched from the enchanted blade.

The wards buckled, submitting to the ancient magic of the king's sword in the hands of a Malfoy by blood, and they quickly ducked inside. Draco had never before seen the inside of his father's office, and it was somewhat of a surprise what they found.

The wide hardwood desk was not neat and orderly like Draco would have thought, but cluttered with trinkets and wizarding photos of Narcissa and Draco, and dominating the wall space behind the large wing back chair was the massive portrait of the family that was created just before Draco left for Hogwarts.

"Hard to image Lucius booting you out of the family if he cared this much…" Hermione commented as she started searching through a large stack of parchment.

"Yeah…" Draco acknowledged. This line of thought was troubling him most of all. If he had been blotted out of the family like he had said, there ought to have been a massive amount of resistance to his commanding the wards. At first Draco had thought that _Andúril_ had given him some sort of edge, but now… now he wasn't so sure. Off to his left, searching the shelves of trinkets for anything of note, Faykan turned and sent a knowing smile at Draco, which reaffirmed without words what the Istari had been saying for over two years.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry wasn't sure what they hoped to find in Lucius' office, but it was the best shot that they had for some lead to the next Horcrux. Scanning the shelves with his magical senses he came across many dark objects, some so dangerous that it was obvious why they were stored here and not where a younger Draco could have gotten a hold of them.

The one curious thing was an empty space in a row of books, where there was a distinctly lighter amount of dust buildup, and a lingering taint that was altogether too familiar to Harry. It must have been where the diary Horcrux had rested for many years before Lucius placed it at Hogwarts.

"I think I've found something," Ron declared, holding up a sheaf of parchment, "it's not much, but there's a mention here of the Dark Lord and the diary…"

Faykan strode over swiftly, reading over Ron's shoulder as Harry and the others approached. A lot of the text was useless ramblings, obvious just some notes that Lucius was making for himself, but one paragraph struck Harry as very important.

"… _Bellatrix wouldn't stop complaining that the Dark Lord is our primary objective. Relocating him and continuing his work. That all well and good for her, she doesn't care about her husband and has no children to protect. Many of the others listen to her, just because the Dark Lord entrusted her with a priceless object, same as the diary, but that might be one of her jealous exaggerations, still unsure what the diary does, but kept it all the same…_ "

"So Bellatrix was entrusted an object by Voldemort too…" Draco said slowly.

"But where could she have hidden it?" Hermione asked, glancing over the parchment again for clues.

"Could be any one of a hundred different places," Faykan replied, "There has to be a way for us to narrow down our search, as who knows if we'll have the opportunity to strike at every possibility."

Harry agreed with Faykan's thought, but even as they stood there a pain shot through his scar, "He's coming, we've run out of time," he said quickly, placing a hand on the lightning bolt mark to crush the pain back.

"Is there anything you want to take before we leave here Draco?" Faykan said, turning to the blonde.

The boy in question took a long look around the office, before shaking his head, "No, I think we've intruded on my father's private sanctuary long enough."

Faykan nodded, "Alright, then we'll make a quick sweep of the manor and withdraw back to Orthanc."

They only made it back to the main stairs just as Harry's scar flared with pain again. Voldemort was on the move, and time was running out. Splitting up to cover more ground, Harry ran down the stairs with Faykan and Draco to check the bottom-most floors, where artifacts and prisoners would be likely stored.

The cries of battle from outside were already starting to calm, as Harry could only assume that the battle was indeed won as they turned down a secreted staircase to the manor's underground section.

"Father never guessed that I'd figured out how to access this part of the Manor," Draco said casually, clearly remembering some fond memories of his youth, even though remorse clearly showed on his face. Harry put a hand on his shoulder to reassure his friend, and together the three of them ventured into the darkness, swords and staffs aloft in case of unexpected company.

Only a sparingly handful of guards were present, orcs that were on high alert from the battle above, but they proved little challenge for either Istari or the heir of Gondor. Even as the last one fell dead, Draco already had snatched the silver and brass keys from the gruesome creature's belt, and hurried to check each and every door along the narrow hallway.

As door after door were opened, Harry's heart sank as he saw the condition of Voldemort's prisoners. Magical and muggle alike, they were beaten, tortured and clearly abused in many different fashions. He and Faykan ushered them out into the waiting arms of the Rohirrim warriors on the main floor, but Harry wasn't sure if they'd have time to save them all.

Voldemort was flying, literally, as fast as he could across Europe to reach where he could apparate the rest of the way to them, and he was drawing ever nearer. Thankfully, they were making good progress, and the cells were over half empty anyway, which made the going much quicker.

The last cell, all the way at the end, had one man in it, who Faykan grabbed and hurried with as the man stumbled to keep up, and they all turned and sprinted for the exit. Bursting out under the blanket of stars, Harry and Faykan quickly threw up their staffs, tearing open the fabric of space to crate the doorway back to Orthanc, just as Voldemort apparated to the far side of the Manor.

Staggering from the pain in his scar, Harry diligently kept the portal open, even as he heard the Dark Lord raging at the loss of his primary base. "Go, quickly!" Faykan shouted to the assembled prisoners and warriors. The assembled people poured through the portal, even as Harry and Faykan turned to see the Dark Lord, bloodied and furious, stalking across the wide lawns toward them.

"Potter!" he screamed, wand aloft, and Harry dived as the green jet of light flew over him.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

"Potter!" Voldemort cried in anger, throwing a Killing Curse at the boy, who dodged. The Dark Lord of the earth was beyond enraged at what had happened. The distraction of this attack had throw off his entire French offensive, allowing the resistors time to flee and deal massive damage to his forces, as well as injuring Lord Voldemort himself.

This was unacceptable, and he would punish all those who caused such an embarrassment, starting here with the boy and his friends. Even as Potter's forces fled through their makeshift portal, Voldemort could see into their hideaway, and he knew a fair amount about the geography of that landscape, which would be invaluable for the counterattack he was already planning to launch. But the boy would die here and now.

Three more spells exploded from his wand, causing Potter to duck and weave through them, his own weapon being used to power their getaway. Fool of a boy, to come unarmed before the most powerful Dark Lord that ever walked the earth, much like his father had. Brave, to be sure, but little sense.

Even as he raised his wand again, however, the infuriating Istari flew at him like a madman, attacking the Dark Lord with his staff and a sword. Such mundane weapons were beneath him, and with a blast of power he threw the Istari back, causing the ring of power to burn with an inner fury. He ought to crush this puny wizard and be rid of him.

The Dark Lord remembered, oh yes, the boy's face was clear to him now. Faykan Undol, after all these years, and there was no mistaking those features as they pulled into a concentrated frown. It was the same boy, almost fifty years ago, that had thwarted him at every turn in Hogwarts, that had spurned his offers of allegiance, and had inevitable been defeated by him, three times now it seemed.

"Why won't you just die!" he roared at the Istari, summoning a hurt blast of fiendfyre, which formed into the shape of a massive draconic serpent, much as his newly empowered animagus form, and dove at the boy wizard, mouth agape to devour him whole.

The sword in the Istari's hand flashed a shining blue, and he struck at the cursed fire, slaying it as a normal beast, before returning the flames in a torrential fireball, which the Dark Lord snuffed out with ease.

A savage roar turned him however, and he dodged at the last moment as a large furry body leapt past him. A black panther gracefully hit the ground, pivoted, and leapt again, giving Voldemort a good look at the vivid green eyes and dirty scar that was indeed Potter's.

So, the boy had master the transformation as well had he? It was a great pity that fate had ordained them to be enemies, as the Dark Lord appreciated servants with unique talents, and Mr. Potter was proving himself every bit the challenge that the rival of the Dark Lord ought to be.

Alas, it was not to be, as the boy was destined to be his downfall, and the Lord Voldemort could have no equal, so the boy would die. The ring on his finger burned with the beat of his own heart, and the Death Curse leapt from his lips. The bolt of deadly energy was dead on course, but the blasted boy saw it and dodged.

Snarling in anger, the panther leapt again, claws and teeth flashing in the moonlight. The Dark Lord apparated out of the way, teleporting closer to their blasted portal and cutting off their potential escape. Both wizards saw this as a threat to their precious followers, and redoubled their efforts to drive him away, but the Dark Lord was immovable.

Laughing as he batted away every attack they threw at him, Voldemort edged closer to the open portal. If he could make it inside, the Fidelius Charm on their hiding place would be broken at last, and they would have nowhere to run.

Potter shifted back to his human form, magical energy crackling around him as he advanced, wandless, to face Voldemort. At that same moment, a sharp crack from behind the Dark Lord distracted him, and he turned to find Alatar on the far side of the portal, eyes blazing with white radiance as he level his staff on the Dark Lord.

The shockwave that flew through the portal was so great that even the Lord Voldemort forced himself, grudgingly, to abandon his position of strength and dodge, angrily throwing himself aside like some worthless muggle. For the indignity they would suffer greatly.

However, even as the Dark Lord recovered from Alatar's surprise attack, Potter followed it up with a mighty crack of lightning from his hands. Eyes wide in astonishment, the Lord Voldemort dodged the bolts of electricity. How could the boy have mastered wandless magic so young, when even he himself had not done this?

Before he could return to the offensive, Potter snatched up his staff, sprinting through the portal as the tear healed itself. Voldemort roared with rage, his spells blasting the spot where the portal had stood. How dare the boy escape again!

The anger burned with a white hot intensity, but the Dark Lord of the earth controlled himself. There would be time now for his vengeance, pure and undiluted as he visited their pathetic Germanic base. He would raze the country to the ground in searching for them. There would be no respite for the forces that rallied against him.

With an earth-shattering explosion the Dark Lord apparated to his followers next fallback location, to rally his warriors to their newest target, and marshal them against the forces of the Light.

Potter would live long enough to see everything he cared about destroyed, only then would he die as well. His continued insult of life would ensure this fate.

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Bellatrix thrashed and wailed in agony upon the bedding in Hogwart's castle dungeons. The flesh and bone that was severed by Draco's thrice cursed sword seared with fire as the slightest movement. And because of whatever enchantments on the blade, Severus regrettably had to inform her that the limb would never be replaceable.

The woman had not taken that information well, but flew into a greater rage than before. Which was why he had secluded her here, and not in the infirmary where she would frighten the students and Madam Pomfrey with her tantrums.

Secretly, he felt that the wretched woman had gotten just what she deserved for being so blindly devoted to a madman. However, he was tasked with making sure that the Dark Lord's favored servant survived to fight another day, and he had little choice in the matter.

At least it wasn't a total loss, in her madden rage through the first few hours, the woman had ranted long about the invincibility of the Dark Lord, clearly in response to something that had been said during the battle at Malfoy Manor. She kept mentioning Gringotts, and something of great value, which Severus immediately took mental record of to transmit to Faykan and the others at his earliest opportunity.

Meanwhile, Nott was becoming extremely irksome, pestering Severus about his plans for the Dark Lord's school and the increased Death Eater activity since the fall of their primary base. Soon they would move on to another location, but for the time being they had to rest up at Hogwarts, as per the Dark Lord's orders.

He had spurned the boy's pestering, which earned no amount of respect from the brat, but at the same time Severus had noticed more and more often the bizarre crown that Nott seemed to always wear these days. It was clearly marked with the crest of Ravenclaw, which made little sense for the Slytherin to be wearing, but he didn't allow anyone to touch it aside from himself, and became violent quickly if asked about it.

Something just didn't add up about these things, but Severus lacked clear information about any of it, and for good reason. In the slightest chance that the Dark Lord probed his mind when he wasn't ready, and learned all that Severus could possibly know, he was as good as dead. All he could do to be helpful at this time was to deliver what he could safely to the rest of the resistance, and hope that it was of use to them.

It was extremely frustrating, but still necessary to the eventual victory of the Light over the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, with all the annoyances caused by the Carrow twins and their constant infighting with the D.A. it was hard to find the time to retreat up to the Headmaster's office and send out the message. Even without Neville, who the entire school knew had escaped before he could be punished, the rest of the resistance group had continued to fight on, bolstered by the fact that their leader was out fighting with Harry's faction in the wider world.

They all thought it was the best thing that could have happened, and the ever swelling members of the D.A. were trying their hardest to emulate Mr. Longbottom so that they could go out and fight with Harry. By the time Severus finally made it back to his office, he had already had to stop nearly five different pranks of various degrees of violence, all set for the Carrows and those Slytherin's that supported them.

Sighing in frustration, Severus turned to Phineas Nigellus Black, the former Headmaster of Hogwarts that was most willing to assist him. "I need you to take a very important message to Potter and his friends."

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Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when Harry charged through the collapsing portal, sealing Voldemort on the other side, and well away from them. they had managed to rescue many prisoners, and while the Muggles had had their memories wiped and were returned safe and sound to Britain, the wizards had to remain at Orthanc for their own safety.

Most notable among these was the wand maker, Ollivander. The man had to be one of the longest in that dungeon, as he was feeble and weak from lack of proper nutrition and sleep. Hermione had personally taken charge of Mr. Ollivander's welfare, secluding him in a private room and assigning Dobby to deliver regular meals.

She was just checking up on the man, see that he had settled into his room when Faykan and Harry entered. "Mr. Ollivander, We're sorry to disturb you…" Harry began, but the old man maker waved off his concern.

"My dear boy," he said feebly, "You rescued us from that horrid dungeon. I thought I would die in that place. I can never thank you… _never_ thank you… enough to reigniting hope in this old man…"

"We were glad to do it." Faykan responded. Ollivander glanced at him, and then did a double take. "Faykan Undol, but how? They said you'd died at the hand of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…"

"Rumors are greatly exaggerated when it comes to me and my welfare," Faykan said dismissively, "More importantly, we could use your expertise Mr. Ollivander…"

"What help can I be?" the man replied, settling back against the pillows that Hermione had just fluffed for the man.

"We have many wizards who are willing to fight the Dark Lord," Harry explain slowly, "but because of circumstances, or in some cases their recent release from dungeons, they are lacking wands…"

"If you provide me the materials and tools that I require, I would be more than glad to create wands for your warriors. That was the same reason that You-Know-Who captured me, but I refused to help him. You saw what his response to my refusal was…"

"We understand," Faykan said, "You rest for the time being, and when you're more than ready, we'll have all the supplies you need brought to you. Until then, when you have a wand that's attuned to you, will this suffice for the time being?"

Faykan walked forward, pulling a wand from his cloak, and Hermione recognized Dumbledore's wand, also known as the Elder Wand. Mr. Ollivander gingerly took the wand, examining it and mumbling its measurements to himself. When he examined the base of the wand to determine its core, his eyes shot up in shock, "It can't be!" he stated, looking between Faykan and the wand, "but that symbol, it must be!"

"It only ever was a wand, Mr. Ollivander. Its power lies only with those who fight for the Light. In evil hands it will cause nothing but misery for all those in contact with it, hence why Dark Lord after Dark Lord failed once they took possession of it." Faykan explained.

"With this wand though…" Mr. Ollivander said, his eyes shining with possibility, "You're warriors will have the most powerfully crafted wands in history."

"I know you'll do your very best work, loaning this wand to you just ensures that you will be able despite your injuries. Healing is your first priority however, and I don't wish for you to push to make wands when you are still unwell."

With that the two turned to leave. "My lad," Ollivander said, calling them back, "Why do I have the express suspicion that we've met before?" he asked Faykan, his eyes clouded with confusion.

"Of course we did Garrick," Faykan replied, smirking, "Who do you think taught you the art of wand making that you've perfected so magnificently, it's only fair that your old master is the one to get you back on your feet after this terrible point of your career…"

"Alatar…" Ollivander whispered in muted realization, even as Harry and the Istari turned and left.

Hermione could only smile to herself. Faykan had such a way with people that they came into contact with. For the ancient Istari to have met with, and worked so closely with Mr. Ollivander so long before even meeting with them. It was sometimes too much for her to comprehend.

"If there's anything else you need, you may call for either myself or Dobby, and we'll make certain that you get it, Mr. Ollivander," she said quietly, but the man was too lost in his recollections, and merely nodded as Hermione excused herself. As she turned to close the door, the man was still intently studying the Elder Wand, a smile plastered on his thin features.

When she returned to her own room, she was surprised to find Phineas Nigellus Black waiting for her, his stern and condescending demeanor sneering across the room. "Miss Granger," he said coldly, "Headmaster Snape has important information to relate to Mr. Potter and your other friends."

Hermione paused in confusion for a moment, before the waspish man snapped her out of her thoughts, pointedly requesting her to collect the others. She did one better, summoning the man's portrait and bringing it down to the main hall, despite the man's protests and indignities about being moved without permission.

When they had all gathered in the main hall, Hermione set Phineas Nigellus down where he could see them all, so he could related Professor Snape's message.

"Other Death Eaters have come to the castle, gravely injured and the Headmaster had personally taken to tending to their wounds," Phineas started. Hermione spotted Harry and Faykan sharing a glance at that. "In process of tending to their wounds, the Headmaster made several discoveries that he felt could assist in leading to the defeat of the Dark Lord, and has requested that I bring you said information."

"We thank you for your contribution to the effort Phineas, may we hear the message?" Faykan prompted.

"The first is that Bellatrix LeStrange made mention of a powerful artifact of the Dark Lord's in her Gringotts vault, in connection to the Dark Lord's supposed immortality."

"Yes!" Harry said, shooting to his feet, "The next Horcrux!"

Calming their friend, Faykan persisted, "What else Phineas?"

"The second is that one Theodore Nott has been given to wearing a crown with the Ravenclaw emblem upon it, whether this has some connection that will help you, the Headmaster was not sure. That is all…"

And without another word, Phineas Nigellus just stood and strode out of his portrait.

"Well," Faykan said after the man left, "I guess out path ahead has finally been made clear. Gringotts must be retaken, and afterward Hogwarts."

"It's time to go on the offensive," Harry added, which made Ron grin the most out of all of them.


	13. Chapter 12

**Another long week, but satisfaction of a chapter to post makes it easier... Reviews are great things, enjoy!**

 **Chapter Twelve**

 **Rending the Earth**

It had taken several weeks for her to heal, but finally Bellatrix was back on her feet from the humiliation at Malfoy Manor. She still was adjusting to the loss of her limb, especially the loss of her preferred wand hand, but down in the dungeons of Hogwarts with little to occupy herself she took to as strenuous training as she could muster to perfect her spell work with her off hand. Fueled by a passionate rage against the Istari and her traitorous nephew, Bellatrix pushed herself to re-master spells that she had at one time perfected.

During one of these intense training regiments, Bellatrix whirled as someone opened the door of the dungeon classroom she was sequestered in. she only lowered her wand when she recognized the Dark Lord's newest protégé, Theodore Nott.

"So it's true, Snape is keeping you here secretly…" the boy said smugly, a tarnished crown nested in his hair. There was something about the tone of the boy's voice, Bellatrix had a hard time placing it, but it reminded her of the Dark Lord somehow.

"What do you want…?" Bellatrix said hoarsely, her voice still recovering from screaming in agony.

"Oh, I think you have a pretty good idea what I want," the boy replied, smirking, "this school is worthless to me, I'm not learning a blasted thing that will help fighting the Dark Lord's battles, but you could teach me easily…"

"And why should I do that?" Bellatrix retorted, sneering at the brat that though he could order her, the Dark Lord's most faithful, around.

"Because you would simply love to make sure that another of the Dark Lord's specially chosen succeeds, because you'd get all the glory for it. Think of it, however well I do for the Dark Lord, it will always be you who taught me what I know…"

"Hmm…" Bellatrix said, actually considering the prospect. True she gained very little from helping the boy, but even the possibility of securing her place as the Dark Lord's favored was extremely tempting.

"Alright, I'll teach you what I can, but it won't be easy, if you even survive…" she said nastily, smirking

"Oh, I look forward to it," the boy replied darkly, eyes gleaming in time with the little silver crown on his head. Bellatrix smirked; she could see a great deal that she liked about this boy, so drastically different he was from dear old Draco. She would mould the boy into a fighter, and together they would lead about the establishment of the Dark Lord's empire.

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The plans for attack Gringotts were put together far faster than any of their previous offensives Harry thought, but he attributed the haste to them all riding off the victory at Malfoy manor, along with the feeling of urgency from a possible location of another Horcrux. With only two of the dreadful artifacts left any lead was to be taken as seriously as possible, for the sake of ending the war as quickly as they could.

Not that they had been entirely action less while they developed their battle plans these last few weeks, in fact, Faykan had taken several important raids out into the wide open country of Britain, falling upon and slaughtering caravans of orcs and their allies, trying to delay what felt like a major attack of Voldemort's that was brewing. Sadly they were unaware of what his target this time was.

Through information relayed by the goblins in exile, Harry and Faykan had reopened the portal to the underground kingdom, sending in many a goblin miner and laborer to start work on defensive structures in the cave they had evacuated from previously, and begin clearing out the tunnels to reopen their route into the rest of the subterranean bank.

"So we're agreed," Faykan said as the five of them, plus Neville who had remained as their emissary to the Beornings, looked over a scale image of the underground passages of the bank, "when we storm the lower levels, I will take a small raiding party, along with Harry and make for the lowest levels and the LeStrange vault, while Draco, Hermione and Ron will take the majority of our forces and scour the bank of all the filth of orc, retaking this place for the goblins."

"Agreed," Harry said, listening more to the internal commentary that sounded between his and Faykan's mind than the actual spoken words. It was far easier to communicate with his fellow Istari via thought than anything else, even if it was off putting for some of the more observant of their group, especially Hermione. ' _Perhaps one day she will understand_ ,' Faykan commented idly while the others discussed this or that specific of the plan.

They were all interrupted, however, when a dwarf entered the hall, carrying a small horn and announcing with a deep booming voice, "Hail Thráin IV, King Under the Mountain, Lord of the Sons of Durin, and Fundin, Lord of Moria, and Borin II, Lord of _Aglarond_!"

Faykan and Harry stood as the dwarven precession entered, and even the goblins of Gringotts that had been invited to offer their expertise looked astonished at the dwarves appearance, clad in armor of studded iron and silver. "Hail Lords Alatar and _Calenrohtar_ , great allies of the mortal races of this world," Thráin said as he approached, a wide smile on his face, all shadows of despair and doom fled.

"My friends," Faykan said, genuinely confused, "what brings you to out humble staging grounds and base?"

The three dwarf lords laughed, their merry voices shattering the serious gloom of preparing for battle, "Once, some time ago," Borin said, stepping forward, "I made the promise that you may yet be granted a legion of dwarven warriors for your cause. As per the last wishes of Náin, and further for the honor of the Sons of Durin, we have come with reinforcements and warnings. Tidings have reach us as the crossed the Isen, a massive force of darkness marched on the boards of the forest. You have been discovered."

"What?" Harry heard himself say, barely audible to his own hears over the storm of whirling speech in his mind that exploded silently from Faykan. Up the stairs they both flew, leaving the others in their haste. As they mounted the pinnacle of Orthanc, Harry's eyes were instantly drawn westward, where a great plume of smoke could be seen, well beyond the borders of Fanghorn, but too close to be mere chance.

"It seems our plans must change." Faykan stated, also watching the far cloud of smoke and ash.

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Hermione's head spun slightly at the events caused by the arrival of the dwarf lords. Faykan and Harry mutually stormed away to see for themselves the report of an advancing army, while Ron, Draco and the goblins set about pulling as much information from the newest arrivals as possible.

Hermione herself was unsure what to do to be most helpful. She thought perhaps she ought to go check on Mr. Ollivander again, but before she could stand to depart, Faykan and Harry returned.

"This complicates thing drastically," Harry began without preamble, as though they hadn't left. "Voldemort's forces are too close for us to leave this place undefended, if they somehow manage to pierce the defensive wards as well as our other measures of security."

"We may be able to assist with that matter, and allow your newest attack to continue," King Thráin said, his eyes changing from their soft cheeriness to flint, "who know the underground reaches of tunnel combat better than the dwarves of Durin? Send us to fight alongside your goblin friends, and we shall put the fear of stone in the hearts of these orcs. That will at the same time allow you to leave behind all your warriors that you would have committed to this battle to defend whatever evil comes for you."

Faykan seemed to calculate the option for a moment, Harry looking over at him while remaining silent and Hermione couldn't get over the thought that the pair had some method of communication that surpassed their ability to hear it. "It's a good plan," Faykan said, before nodding at Harry, "We'll need to split up our group to cover both places, but I feel that we can gain a small element of surprise by attacking while Voldemort thinks he has the upper hand. I will remain, with Hermione and Ron if they will allow it, and we will organize the defense of Orthanc if it comes to a battle here, while Harry and Draco will continue with the normal attack plan, Harry taking over my role and the Dwarves substituting in for the Rohirrim."

Harry and Draco nodded, before departing with the dwarf lords to gather King Thráin's warriors. Meanwhile, Faykan led Hermione out to ready the defenses of the tower.

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Draco cautious stepped through the portal that Harry opened, exiting the light of the Germanic countryside and returning to the dark underworld of Gringotts. Feeling far more confident about their chances with the dwarves of Erebor at his side, Draco still couldn't help but wonder about what occurred in the world around them. Was Ginny thinking of him right now?

At his side, King Thráin strode into the darkness of the cavern, observing the gloom and rubble that the goblins had been moving to clear the exit to the rest of the tunnels. "I will not enter battle like a thief in the night," he announced, calling forth several warriors, each bearing massive ram horns. Together they blew, bellowing out a deep groaning sound that rang through the tunnels, stretching for what Draco could only guess was miles.

" _Baruk Khazâd!_ " Thráin cried and the echo was taken up by his warriors, who all turned to follow their king in a mad dash toward the last of the rubble barring their way. Harry locked eyes with Draco, and the heir of the kings of men saw his friend nod, signaling for him to go with the dwarf lords. The dwarves made short work of the barricade, and were pouring through the gap they had created.

Ahead the tunnel split, and Draco wondered how the dwarves knew which direction to turn as they instantly split off from the goblins and Harry, taking the right hand passage as Harry and the goblins veered to the right. Draco paused only for a moment before following the dwarves up toward the main section of the bank.

They jogged for what felt like an hour before sighting their first foe. A band of orcs shrieked in fright as the dwarves set upon them, slaying them with a speed that shocked Draco with the brutality. Shouts of ' _Khazâd ai-mênu!_ ' and other dwarven oaths rang through the caverns as more and more orcs appeared out of the tunnels. Even though their mission was only an optional objective, Draco felt as though he had to win in these cave. Drawing forth _Andúril_ , he shouted the war cry of the king of men, charging through the dwarven ranks, who parted to admit him to the front.

There he met up with Thráin, his brother Borin, and their other relatives and fellow lords as they spearheaded the column of dwarves fighting furiously against the front lines of orcs.

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Voldemort looked out over the oncoming forest with disdain, such a meaningless defense from his wrath. To think that his most hated foe had hidden here for so many years, much like Voldemort himself while he wandered as a disembodied spirit.

"What cowards…" he said to himself, looking over the ancient trees before him. turning to the nearest orc, a hulking brute named Muzgash, he spoke coldly, "Burn it down…"

"As you command, my Lord…" the orc responded, bowing low before barking orders in its only guttural tongue to the hosts gathered before them. with a cry of vengeance they ran for the line of trees, torches aloft as they set about igniting the dry foliage.

What happened next was not something the Dark Lord expected.

With a shuddering groan-like roar, the nearest trees bent themselves over, slamming their branches into the orcs and crushing them with wild roots that flailed in the air threateningly. Voldemort sneered, even nature itself attempted to stand against his right to rule. Leveling his wand, he began the incantation to create powerful gouts of fiendfyre.

Before he could complete however, shrieks from his forces broke his concentration, making his head snap up to see. Warriors poured out of the trees, mounted human in green and dull browns, and at their head was the one of the few that the Dark Lord hoped to flush out. Shimmering blue cascaded off the staff as magical energy flooded the small glade before the forest.

Alatar the Azure had come to fight the Dark Lord of the Earth.

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Harry knew he would have been lost in the dark caves and tunnels under Gringotts if not for his goblin guides. It took little to no time for them to reach the lowest levels of the bank vaults. With the dwarves causing so much noise in their full force assault of the upper levels of the bank, there was only minor security down in the vaults.

As they reached the finally corridor, the goblins around him started to shift nervously, which concerned Harry, "What?" he said, looking at their uneasy faces.

"We don't have the clankers…" Gornuk explained.

"Alright, what are those?" Harry asked, starting to move forward again, but stopping again when the goblins didn't move.

"A dragon guards the bottom most vaults and we need to clankers to get past it and into the vaults," another explained.

"Oh, just a dragon, that's not going to be an issue," Harry said casually, returning to the entrance ahead of them.

Harry had already been aware that there was a powerful and dangerous guardian to the deepest vaults of the bank guarding the lowest, and indeed the founding vaults of the bank. Confidently striding into the final chamber, Harry had a good look at the creature barring their way. Before five large doors was tethered a gigantic pale dragon, its rear legs tethered by chains to the rocky floor.

Who knew how long the poor creature had languished in this underground place. Its eyes had turned a milky pink, nearing total blindness from the lack of sunlight and freedom. Saddened and angered by the cruelty that this creature had suffered, regardless of its origins, Harry made a decision.

Walking confidently toward the beast, he allowed magic to flow through his body, causing him to shine like a beacon in the darkness. The dragon flinched back, unaccustomed to so much light at one time, and reflexively shot a jet of flames at Harry. Raising one hand, the Istari in training conjured a shield so powerful that the dragon fire reflected off to the far sides of the chamber harmlessly.

Whimpering in fear, the Dragon huddled away as Harry approached it. "You poor mistreated creature," he said sadly, laying a gentle hand on the beast. "No more…" he declared, opening himself to the pure power that radiated from Valinor. Pointing his staff, the chains binding the dragon were obliterated, and the creature stretched the limbs cautiously, experimenting with its newfound freedom.

Not content to releasing it from its bond only, Harry focused his power, tearing open a massive gateway to a solitary pacific island, full of food that could sustain the dragon until it was strong enough to venture out on its own. Sniffing the air, the beast took a tentative step toward the open sun, before leaping with a roar of joy, and disappearing into the sea air of the distant island.

Harry allowed a fleeting moment where he watched the freed creature frolic in the open air, unchained and relishing its newfound life, before sealing the gateway and refocusing on the task at hand.

The goblins had dashed in as the dragon surged through the portal, but Harry was deaf to their outrage at releasing their guardian. "Do not attempt to lecture me on the consequences of my actions," he rebuked them, "it is done, your enslaved dragon is freed, the way is clear to the LeStrange vault."

Grumbling, the goblins obeyed the unspoken command to proceed. Gornuk went straight for the rightmost of the massive doors and place his clawed hand upon it, activating the goblin magic the sealed the vault, and causing the door to melt away, revealing a cave-like opening filled to the brim with treasure, coins and goblets, silver armor, dragon skin and that on many other creatures, potions in jeweled flasks, even a skull still wearing a crown. From outside, Harry could feel the aura of evil; a Horcrux was definitely inside. "We've found one, somewhere in there…" he stated, before entering the vault as the goblins stood just outside, preventing the door from sealing him inside.

Walking in among the treasure, Harry swept his magic around the room for the Horcrux, knowing the particular flavor of darkness that the soul containers were like. Igniting his staff so that it flared with pure radiant light, he strode through the mountains of items, searching. He saw what looked like the sword of Gryffindor in a corner, but the item was clearly a fake, admit a jumble of chains on a high shelf.

Careful to touch nothing that would set off the alarms of the bank, Harry made his way deeper and deeper into the vault, until at last he found the source of the vile taint, a small two handled cup, engraved with badgers and made of pure gold. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff gleamed in the light of his staff as he reached the long wooden item toward it, urging one of the many spokes of gold that held the emerald in its fitting through one of the handles of the cup. Gingerly, Harry lifted the cup into the air and quickly pulled his staff back, his prize upon the head of it like an impaled trophy.

Quickly he retreated back to the entrance, allowing the goblins to seal the vault up again. a simple brown sack was provided to stow the Horcrux away, to be dealt with at a later time. "Come now, Draco and the dwarves will need reinforcements to take the upper levels," Harry said quickly, and together he and the contingent of goblins dashed to the tunnels leading upward, hot in pursuit of their allies from the Lonely Mountain.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione stood well back from the front lines of the battle before Fangorn, firing desperately through her mundane arrows as lines of orcs flowed over the hill country beyond the Germanic forest. Far beyond, she could feel the menacing aura of Voldemort, standing at the head of his forces like a towering giant, staring impassively at the desperate battle in the lowlands before the river.

Faykan, spearheading their counterattack and pushing the orcs from the line of trees, was a whirling dervish of blade and staff, the glowing gem atop his staff acting as a beacon to his location at all times, flares of magic and fire carving paths through enemy ranks for the charging horsemen of Rohan.

Desperate cries of battle and death sounded on the air, and another line of warriors exploded from the trees all around her. Hermione was safe from the thundering hooves, having climbed one of the largest and thickest trees at the edge, her arrows zipping through branches that waved threateningly, daring any to approach and suffer nature's wrath.

Not that the trees were completely out of the battle, in fact several had uprooted themselves and charged into the ranks of orcs, crushing the beasts with every step and flailing with branches to scatter whole regiments of the armored creatures at a time.

It seemed that the tide of battle was clearly in their favor; with the aid of the forest itself and the element of surprise, but Hermione had learned long ago that these things were never that simple. Every battle, much like Ron's favored game of chess, was a series of turns, cumulating in one desperate move that won the day.

Even as she thought this, the sky grew darker, and screams from the warriors of the light could be heard as thousands of black shapes descended from the sky. The Dementors had come, falling to the earth like vile angels of the night. And from the midst of the orcish host, riding from the lines where Voldemort himself stood, a greater darkness stirred, and charged for Faykan's location.

"No!" Hermione shouted, recognizing from years ago the armored mask of the nightmare that was Faykan's boggart. He had named the creature for them some time ago, during their lessons of the time of old. The Witch-King of Angmar had taken to the field, and fear radiated from his passing like a noxious wave.

"Please, help me," Hermione cried to the tree she stood in, and the mighty oaken body lurched in response, uprooting itself to stride menacingly into the battle, carrying her to Faykan's aid. In another knot of the woods, some half dozen trees followed suit, roots spearing through the ground to pull them toward the foe's position.

Hermione went to load her bow, perhaps fire at the beast of darkness and fear that bore down on Faykan, but her hand found nothing but air in her quiver. Her arrows were spent, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on her fear and desires to help. Lightning leapt from her fingers, even as he drew back the bow, and formed into a straight sparking shaft.

Letting her magical arrow fly, Hermione watched it streak across the battlefield, gasping as the dark being batted the bolt of lightning away with a drawn sword, not even pausing as it charged at Faykan. Hermione had little choice left. Leaping from the high branched, she hit the ground and rolled back to her feet, sprinting through the melee as fast as she could, drawing her wand to banish several orcish shafts that flew at her.

Faykan had seen the Witch-King storming toward him, and was prepared, even as warriors all around him fell away in fear. Swinging his staff wide to point at the Lord of Azkaban, Faykan spoke in a voice radiating power, "Go back to the abyss!" he commanded, but the Witch-King ignored the order.

"Do you not know death when you see it foolish old man!" he cried, English and black speech mixing in places and causing the Rohirrim to cry out in agony at the words. "This is my hour!" the Lord of the Nazgûl declared, raising his cruel morgul-forged sword, its blade wreathed in flames.

Glamdring flashed in response, and Hermione held her breath as all motion seemed to pause around the two, Istari and ring wraith staring each other down momentarily, before they exploded into action. Blades rang as the cursed sorcerer and the Valar sent magi fought like demons, or rather and angel of light against a demon, Hermione corrected.

Earth, air and the waters of the Isen surged as Faykan threw every skill and power he had at the Witch-King of Angmar. But the undead lord leapt high, dismounting in a flurry of torn robes, even as the dementors arrived at the level of the battlefield. Light flared from the sapphire topped staff, and Hermione called forth her Patronus, and the little otter that she so loved soared into the sky amid half a dozen others from the wizards who were scattered among the combatants.

The wraiths clashed against the powerful shield of light formed from the patroni, and with their attack diverted, Hermione returned her attention to the Witch-King and Faykan. The vile creature had gained the upper hand, using the distraction to slam its metal clad body into the young Istari, knocking him to the ground and disarming him from his staff.

Throwing herself in the way, Hermione stared down fear itself, "I will kill you if you touch him!" she declared, holding her bow before her defensively.

"Do not stand between the Nazgûl and its prey!" the creature screamed, rearing back to run Hermione through. Drawing back on her bow, Hermione pulled heavily on her magic to produce arrows much alike her Patronus in makeup, concentrating with all her might on the happy times she had with her family, her friends, and her desperate wish for the world to be safe from Voldemort.

The beam of pure radiant light that rocketed from her weapon struck the incoming sword dead on. With a scream of pain, the Lord of the Nazgûl staggered back, his sword shattered and robes consuming in fire. But before Hermione could launch another, or do much of anything to slay the fiend, the Witch-King fled from the battle, shadows drawing around it in its haste to depart.

Checking quickly on Faykan, Hermione was relieved to find that he was unharmed from the fight with the Nazgûl Lord. But they were far from out of danger, as even without the dementors, Voldemort's forces were still out in force, and they had a long ways left to go if they were to drive them back.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco cleaved through the armor of a massive orc warrior, his arms and back screaming for relief from battle, but he fought on regardless, knowing that he and the warriors of Erebor were nearing the uppermost level of Gringotts. The fighting had gotten bloody and their pace had slowed to a crawl almost four levels ago, and they had lost several of the dwarven warriors that Thráin had brought from the mountain kingdom.

The sheer number of orcs that clogged the tunnels below Diagon Alley staggered Draco. The magnitude of Voldemort's reach and influence must have been great indeed for this nearly endless army to be used in so many fields at once.

It was a daunting task, something that Draco himself was uncertain if they could overcome, but it was better to fight and die against Voldemort then bow to his will and suffer cruelty and unknown horrors that the madman would unleash upon them.

The dwarf lords seemed undaunted by the challenge of so many foes before them and relentless plowed ahead of their warriors, yells and commands being shouted above the din of combat. The loyalty of the dwarven warriors to their leaders was remarkable, and Draco could feel the love for their king in the way they obeyed every command without question. It was awe inspiring, and Draco drew inspiration from the old dwarf.

If Faykan was right and Draco was responsible for leading the wizarding world in some fashion or another, he hoped that he could achieve a fraction of the loyalty that King Thráin could call upon from his own subjects. Orcs to the left and right were slowly falling back, pressed so strongly upon by the iron and steel of the dwarven warriors, their war hammers and battle axes making quick work of the shoddy plate armor that the vile creatures wore.

Swinging wide with _Andúril_ , Draco fueled his own magic into the blade, unleashing a curtain of fire that washed over the orcish ranks, flooding the tunnel ahead with fire. Shrieks of rage and pain echoes above the sounds of battle, and dozens of enemy warriors fell back with severe burns, opening the way for the dwarves to plunge ahead further.

Even so, as they pushed through to the next curve of the tunnel, the odor in the air grew rank almost immediately. The bellowing roar from up ahead combined with the smell confirmed that there was something new up ahead.

"How did these brutes smuggle cave trolls into here?" Thráin questioned the open air, even as the hulking monsters staggered into view, their yellow and blue tinted skin glistening in the limited light from the tunnels.

The trolls turned toward the advancing dwarves, their own senses of smell guiding them, and bellowed out a challenging roar before charging, great hammers raised above their heads, preparing the crush the first creatures to cross their path.

A shout command from the dwarf lords, and their warriors leapt forward, spears and shields forming a barricade before them, but Draco was unsure how they could withstand the massive trolls' initial attack with just their own strength.

Stepping back to take aim with his wand, Draco noticed that the other warriors and their king had not stood idle as the shield wall was formed. Lances, throwing axes and bows had been readied, and the moment that the trolls were within range Thráin shouted the command to fire, and a barrage of projective flew at the beasts, catching one off guard and causing it to stagger to a halt.

Unfortunately, the other was undaunted in its charge, and it smashed headlong into the wall of metal that the dwarf warriors raised, impaling itself multiple times on several long spears, but decimating the shield wall with its bulk.

Falling back, the warriors making up the shield wall threw away their shields and drew out axes, sword and spiked maces, leaping back into the fray with the trolls and hacking away at its heavily protected hide. Roaring with irritation and pain, the trolls went into a wild frenzy, swatting away warriors with their hands and giant clubs.

Ranged ordinance continued to fly at the trolls' heads and upper bodies, distracting them enough for the frontline warriors to have enough time to dodge the swinging weapons and arms. For his part, Draco was casting what bludgeoning and cutting hexes he could, but they had little effect to actually stopping the trolls.

It seemed that they were doomed to slowly hacking away at these beasts until the orc sent a fresh wave to destroy them. That was until a flash of brilliant light illuminated a dark corridor on the far side of the trolls, and Draco saw Harry and the goblins barrel through, carving a path through the orcs that were there.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Voldemort cursed the utter failing of his servants. That even the Witch-King, the very Lord of Azkaban itself was chased away by a young woman was a great disappointment. Even still, there were legions of orcs left at his command, and he could overwhelm this pitiful stronghold by sheer attrition if need be.

Giving the small signal to his commander, Voldemort watched impassively as the hulking forms of giants approached from the far valley where they had been somewhat hidden from view. The towering humanoids had really only one purpose: destruction.

As they stomped toward the battlefield, several of the tree-like creatures attempted to intercept them, braches and roots flailing threatening. The giants however, did not care, smashing the wooden creatures with their massive clubs, batting one over on its side, before pummeling it with stones and their meaty fists.

It seemed a sure thing at this point to the Dark Lord. There couldn't be that many warriors huddling in those trees, and even the power of a single Istari could only extend so far before even he would fall. It would only be a matter of time before these forests would burn and his greatest enemies would be eliminated.

There was only one thought that nagged the back of his mind. Where was Potter…? The Dark Lord was certain that the boy would have come running to these people defense. It was disappointing that even now the boy had not revealed himself. It was almost as of the boy was not even present, but that was absurd, where could he have gone and why would be abandon his allies when he, Lord Voldemort, was marshalling on their borders.

But… even as he thought of the option, the gemmed ring on his finger whispered the threatening concept to him; this was exactly what Potter had done. The boy had fled, but for what reason?

Drawing his power around him like a cloak, the Dark Lord of the Earth reached out to try and locate the boy through the connection they shared. The sounds of the battle before him faded as the great mind of Lord Voldemort sped across the continent, back toward the homeland of Britain.

Curious that the boy was back where Voldemort's power as all but absolute. Peering into the boy's mind was difficult, with so much ancient magic of a Lord awakened and a devotion to the Light pushing back at Voldemort, but he was able to rush quickly through the boy's thoughts before he was forcefully evicted, gathering some useful information including a decent amount of what the boy was seeing at that moment.

The underground tunnels of Gringotts... it was an interesting strategy the Dark Lord acknowledged, but in the end all futile. He would be victorious here and now, and even if Potter liberated the bank, he would return and crush the goblins once and for all upon his return.

Reawakening to his current location, Voldemort decided it was time to end this charade of a battle himself. Striding forward against his commander's council, the Dark Lord of the earth channeled a massive amount of magic through him, allowing his body to become light as the air around him. Lifting off from the ground and sailing over the combatants, dark curses streamed from his wand upon the fighters for the Light, and Voldemort laughed as they were cut down in waves before him.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry felt the powerful intrusion into his mind, hissing with the pain that it brought. But he couldn't let Voldemort's discovery of their plans daunt him at what they needed to achieve. Storming the main tunnel with the goblins, Harry hefted his weapons with all his strength, slowly clearing a channel toward the dwarven offensive, and the trolls that were wrecking havoc among them.

Harry knew from his first year in Hogwarts how to deal with such beasts, and as he struck down the last orc barring his path to the trolls, he slammed his staff into the stone ground with an almighty cracking sound.

" _Valar Kalina_!" he called, summoning the white light of Valinor to flash in the gloom, blinding the orcs all around and making the trolls stagger in pain, even as their skin started to burn and transform, returning the beasts to their original form of stone.

The dwarves yelled in triumph as their foes were reduced to statues, and swarmed around them, butchering the orcs that had been harassing their lines while the beasts beat upon their defenses.

"Onward my warriors," King Thráin yelled, waving his great axe, "Make safe this city!"

Now reunited, the combined goblins and dwarves made quick work of their enemies, pressing to the very lobby of the bank, and staining the marble tiles of that place with the black orcish blood.

Even as the final remnants of the vile race fled into the streets of Diagon, the goblins were already at work barricading their kingdom, while the dwarves signaled their mutual victory with a blast of horns, sending tremors of the sounds through the streets. Harry and Draco stepped out into the Alley, striking down the last handful of orcs that dared to remain with magic, and causing quite the stir amid the wizards that were in the shopping district at the time.

Feeling that the moment was right, Harry smacked his staff upon the stone, the sound attracting the attention of those left in the alleyway. "Behold," Harry called, lifting his hand to indicate the slain orcs, "The fate of those who follow the Dark Lord Voldemort! I _Calenrohtar_ , emerald warrior of the west will no longer allow this evil to taint our lands or his power to corrupt this world."

"Nor will I," Draco added, calling over the murmur of the assembling crowd. "I _Sgiathatch Telcontar_ , swear that I will fight the orcish hordes of Voldemort wherever they appear, on my honor as the heir of Elendil and wielder of the sword _Andúril_." The blade of the king flashed above their heads, and the crowd, whether they understood or not, gasped in appreciation.

"Voldemort would have you live in fear of his wrath, cowed into submission to his rule by the threat of him marching upon your families." Harry continued, "I say unto you all, that he will destroy you in the end regardless if you fight or flee, so I implore you all to stand and fight. Do not stay idly by and watch your world be destroyed by one man's ideals!"

As if sealing what he said in a light of importance, a flash of fire appeared above Harry, and Fawkes the phoenix appeared, crying loud the anthem of war and landing lightly on Harry's shoulder. Where the phoenix had been in the intervening months, Harry did not know, but as a creature of the utmost light, he trusted that the bird came and went as it was needed.

King Thráin and the other dwarven warriors appeared, and to add the final flair of dramatics to their speech, Harry tore open a portal back to Orthanc right there in the street, allowing all present to see that they had more than enough power to come and go where they pleased, when they pleased.

With any luck the people of Wizarding Britain would be inspired this time at last to take up arms against the Death Eaters themselves.


	14. Chapter 13

**The countdown has begun. Many thanks to those who reviewed the last chapters, and prepare for those remaining few to come. We're heading into the thick of it now. Enjoy, and leave a review!**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 **Issuing the Challenge**

Bellatrix winced as the Dark Mark on her arm flared to a burning white intensity. The Dark Lord was infuriated beyond anything he had felt before, and Bellatrix was angered herself that she was unable to do anything to assist her Master at this time. She was still out of commission for combat, as much as Bella would want nothing more than to fight against Potter and Alatar, but the loss of her wand arm had been a devastating blow.

So, in compensation, Bellatrix had taken to tutoring the young Nott child in every form of Dark Magic that she knew, watching with pleasure as the boy grew more and more powerful. Even if her fighting days were to be over, Bellatrix's legacy would live on in every battle that young Theo would fight, and win, in.

It was almost unnatural, how quickly the little boy learned the powers of darkness, like a fish being introduced to water. Bellatrix suspected that it had something to do with the somewhat feminine crown that he wore constantly. The tarnished silver and sapphire item reminded her strongly of the cup that the Dark lord entrusted to her so long ago.

Several days after the blazing anger of the Dark Lord flared to life, Bellatrix was mentoring Nott through his use of several methods of illusion magic, when the boy spoke abruptly. "The Light will come for Hogwarts next…"

"What?" Bellatrix asked, affronted that the boy dare interrupt her.

"Hogwarts is the next battlefield," the boy repeated neutrally as thought it was fact and not his opinion. "There are things here that they want; things they think will turn the tide of this war. But they are fools, and will find only ruin in this school. Nevertheless… your safety is jeopardized, and our Lord would not be happy to lose you so easily."

Bellatrix was frozen in confused thoughtfulness, Hogwarts the next battlefield? It made sense that it would turn into a warzone, with both the Dark Lord and Potter placing such a high value on the illustrious school. And in her condition she would be nothing but a liability at the present time. However, that didn't mean that Bellatrix couldn't leave some farewell presents for the oncoming party of the Light.

And with Nott's help, she could make sure that her 'gifts' made it to the right individuals at the right times…

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione eyed the innocent looking cup on the center plinth of Orthanc, shimmering slightly in the early dawn light. It seemed such a little thing, but Hermione knew better now than to take things like this cup at face value. She, Ron, Harry, Faykan and Draco were gathered here, discussing what was to be done about this Horcrux, and what plans would be taken to claim the final one from Hogwarts and destroy it as well.

"I think," Ron said after a short discussion, "that Hermione should have the honors of destroying this one."

When everyone looked at him in confusion, Ron's ears turned red slightly as he stammered out an explanation, "I… well, I mean, we've all destroyed one, it's only fair that Hermione get's a turn…"

Hermione wanted to slap the boy for his silly chivalry, but the others took his idea seriously, and after a moment Faykan nodded, "I agree, it seems fitting, after all, we're working together to destroy that monster, so why not make it literal after a fashion?"

Turning to Hermione, he offered the hilt of _Glamdring_ , the blade glowing faintly in the presence of the cup. Accepting the weapon, Hermione was surprised to find that the sword was extremely light.

Looking back at the cup, Hermione war horrified to see a dark radiance pouring off the cup that looked so peaceful moments ago. Was it the power of the sword? Even as she stood there it seems that the darkness from the cup growing, reaching toward her menacingly. _Glamdring_ burned slightly in her hand, giving her courage to act, and with a shriek of righteous fury, Hermione swung the blade with all her strength.

The enchanted elven blade impacted the cup, and a roar of rage exploded from the object, echoing around the tower, making the high windows rattle in their frames. The cup remained, a deep seam split through it from top to bottom. The cup was ruined, and the evil within purged forever.

"Only one left to destroy, and Voldemort will become mortal once more." Faykan said solemnly, accepting _Glamdring_ back from Hermione. "We must gather the White Council, and plan our offensive for Hogwarts. Theodore Nott is clearly in possession of the final Horcrux, and unlike this previous one, it is awakened and acting through the boy."

"What ought we to do about Nott?" Draco asked, and Hermione could sense the concern that Draco was feeling over his former house-mate. Draco had expressed once that he and Theodore had once been friends, when they were very young, but after Nott Sr. started acting strangely during the first war, and became somewhat of a hermit, they hadn't met again until Hogwarts, and by the Nott had changed greatly.

"I regret what may have to happen," Harry replied, closing his eyes in concentration, "I would prefer if we could save Nott from Voldemort's influence, but should it come down to it, we may have to use force to take the Diadem from him."

"I will summon the Council then," Faykan said, and strode off to send out the calls to the various leaders of the free peoples of the world.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco hurried to throw on his regal attire of the heir of Gondor and rush down the stairs to the main floor of Orthanc. It was the day of the meeting of the White Council, and he had unfortunately overslept the night before, and if he wasn't quick enough, the meeting would start without him. Despite everything else the Lucius did, he had made sure to teach his son the importance of punctuality.

Skidding down the last few steps in front of the side door from the stairway, Draco eased the door open a small crack, sighing in relief as he saw people standing and milling about. He had just barely made it before the meeting started. Sliding inside, hoping his tardiness went unnoticed, and started to make his way to the small chair to Faykan's left, opposite the Istari from Harry and beside where Madam Zabini was to sit.

He wasn't a moment too soon in that either, as soon as he took his seat, Harry tapped his large staff on the ground, calling the group to order. Every member made their way to their seats, only the centaur and being the last left standing, in the spot vacated especially for them to stand in the circle.

As Faykan started to speak, giving a very similar and quite formal introduction to the meeting as he had before, Draco glanced around the room. There were a fair few more here than previously. In addition to Firenze, two other centaurs stood with him in the circle, and Draco recognized them as Magorian and Bane, the two co-leaders of the Hogwarts herd that had previously been highly resistant to Faykan's summons.

Further along was Borin, Lord of _Aglarond_ , in the company of his cousins, King Thráin and Fundin, Lord of Moria. Ragnok, King of Gringotts was in attendance, along with Gornuk who was still acting in his role as the Goblin's official representative.

All round the room the situation was the same, kings and leaders here in person along with their usual representatives, all waiting expectantly. Draco knew that this was the way that Faykan had wanted it, each race's leader had to make the decision about how they were to end this war. The death of Voldemort would disrupt the forces of darkness utterly, and it was clear that all here felt the same as those of the Istari's company.

As Faykan, and later Harry spoke, listing off the accomplishments of the Light during the course of their three year war with Voldemort, Draco started when Madam Zabini leaned toward him. With his and nearly every other Slytherin being rather distant from Blaise, Draco had never had the privilege of meeting, let alone speaking with the boy's mother, but she spoke as though he was a trusted friend.

"Alatar certainly likes to lay the aura of suspense on thickly…" she commented, smiling slightly.

Draco nodded in agreement; Fay certainly had a small flare for dramatics from time to time. "My son has spoken quite often about you, Draco _Telcontar_ ," she continued, while still watching Faykan's every move intently, "and I am pleased that he has such people as you and your friends that he looks up to as examples of honor and loyalty."

Draco didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't as though he had ever been particularly close with Blaise. Although, true, Draco had specifically invited him as the only other Slytherin in Dumbledore's Army, and everyone had gone slightly out of their way to make sure he was accepted into their ranks, but beyond that…

"The time has come, members of the White Council of the West," Faykan said, breaking off Draco's line of thought. "The pathway of this war is laid clear to us, and victory is in sight. A hard, final push is needed to secure the means to defeating the Dark Lord Voldemort once, and indeed, for all."

Faykan let that message sink in for a moment before continuing, "Hogwarts is the key to our victory. Not only does the castle contain at this moment something precious to the monster, a thing if we acquire will end his supposed immortality at last, but the castle itself is the one thing that the man holds dearer than all his power and vain ambition. If we capture the castle, he will come out, in person, to give battle to us. And it is there that we are at our strongest."

"But what of the students?" called one of the members of the council. Draco craned his neck to see the man, but it was lost as voices of concerned murmuring floated all around and the man retook his seat.

For his part, Faykan just smiled, "We know on good authority that the students of the school, on the whole, are rebelling against the Dark Lord's tyranny already. Liberating the castle would only swell our ranks with those who are of age and willing to fight. The rest we can seclude away from the combat that will inevitably break out, whether in the bowels of the castle or removing them by portkey or Floo it wouldn't matter. We will do all it takes to protect those innocents during this final confrontation."

"What is this weapon that will defeat the Dark Lord?" Madam Zabini asked pointedly. And Draco saw Harry wince slightly as Faykan turned to meet her gaze. "That, is a long and complicated story War-queen Zabini… but suffice it to say that the Dark Lord made Horcruxes, in the plural."

There was an effective gasp all around the room, each member that understood the word shaking their heads in revulsion and fear. "We have personally hunted down and destroyed them all, except for this last one. We know its location, and the Dark Lord is blissfully unaware that the rest are all destroyed. He will not expect us to have discovered his deepest and most prized secret."

That seemed to satisfy Madam Zabini, and she nodded in acceptance. Faykan continued on with logistics, laying out who was to join in the initial raid to take the castle, and who would follow behind to fortify the stronghold against Voldemort's counterattack.

Glancing around the room as Faykan indicated each race of peoples and their part of the battle plan; Draco couldn't help but stop at the stern, uncomfortable look on King Ceolwulf of Rohan. Somehow, it wasn't something Draco couldn't say he was surprised about. The warriors of Rohan had suffered much throughout the war thus far, taking the brunt of the enemy's attacks and spearheading almost every offensive counter.

Their warriors, which had initially numbered in the several hundred, had been significantly reduced, being cut down to a third of their original strength. None had complained, as they were fighting for their lives, but Draco could see that the deaths had hung heavily on King Ceolwulf. This was probably what led to the man resisting many of the combative fronts of the last few battles, which both Faykan and Harry had respected and adjusted accordingly, until now.

Mercifully, Faykan made the part of Rohan significantly smaller than the other peoples, only having them appear as part of the fortification after the castle was liberated. Their position was to be just inside the Entrance Hall, ready to charge at a moment notice if the front doors were broken in.

Meanwhile, the centaur would be rallying the denizens of the forest, the unicorns and Quickbeam in particular, and preparing to catch the dark army between the forest and the castle when they pierced into the grounds. The dwarves had their own method of entering the castle grounds as well, but they were refusing to share the secret as of yet.

The goblins, grateful for the extensive work in freeing their kingdom from the stranglehold of the Death Eaters, wanted to be part of the initial attack force, and would be working to assassinate all orcs in Hogwarts, allowing the wizards to focus on eliminating the Death Eaters, and more importantly, capturing Nott and the Horcrux.

Finally, Madam Zabini regretfully informed the council that Voldemort had all but demanded her warriors to fight on side of the war several times, and until this point she had respectfully deflected the demands and remained neutral as to the fighting.

"However, such a ploy will no longer work if the threat to the Dark Lord is this great. If I were to refuse again now, he would surely crush my people before turning on Hogwarts. I have no choice to attend the field under his banner…" she said apologetically.

"That can work to our favor as well," Faykan countered, "If Voldemort thinks that he can bully the Haradrim into fighting for evil once again, and then he has not paid any attention to the history of your people and me, which gives us an unexpected advantage. We not only have a spy into his battle plan, but an entire sub army in the midst of our enemies, ready to strike when the time is right."

"Those were my thoughts exactly, Lord Alatar…" Madam Zabini affirmed, nodding wisely as she sat back down.

Faykan was silent a moment as he digested all the information from around the room, and finally he spoke again to the assembled council as a whole. "We have much left to do, but if all the pieces fall together we can ensure victory for not only ourselves, but the whole of the world as well."

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Severus was impressed with the news that Phineas Nigellus brought to him about the meeting of the White Council. Their plan to draw out Voldemort to battle was bold, almost frighteningly so, but for his part he would have an easy time forwarding the positioning and strength of Hogwart's current defenses.

As he strolled through the corridors, calculating the different batches of hidden orcs that were scattered through the grounds and the Slytherins that were heavily pro-Voldemort, he didn't notice when someone purposely stepped into his way, sidestepping almost out of reflex.

"Something on your mind, Headmaster?" said the younger voice sarcastically.

Refocusing on the person in front of him, Severus stiffened when he recognized the imperious look in Theodore Nott's face. The boy had been strutting around as though he owned the castle, unopposed by any of the professors for fear of the Death Eaters. It had led to a horrible situation where the boy would torment younger students at his whim, as well as spending copious amounts of time in the dungeons where Bellatrix was hidden away.

"Nothing that is of any concern to you, Mr. Nott… move along now…" he said, continuing past the boy as though nothing of importance had occurred.

"As you wish, Headmaster…" the boy replied, still watching Severus as he passed. It was unnerving; the glint in the teenager's eyes, as though he already knew what Severus had been up to, but that was highly unlikely. Severus was certain that he had played all his cards close to the chest, and had made no mistakes thus far in hiding his true allegiance.

Still, things had to be done carefully from this point on, or all could easily be lost. If even one word of the impending attack made its way to Voldemort, all was lost.

At the same time however, they had this one chance to undo everything that the monster had wrought, and had to seize the opportunity to stop the Dark Lord for good.

Severus quickly finished the rounds, making special note to tally each position of orcs, even those that had been placed supposedly without his knowledge, which was disturbing that he wasn't informed about previously, and returned to the Headmaster's tower to report to the White Council. He made special note to mention that Bellatrix was at the school, injured and effectively unprotected.

He wasn't sure what effect that information would have with Faykan and the others, but he was obligated to make certain that they knew all the facts for preparing their liberation of the castle, and Severus would keep his oaths to friends.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry could feel the growing tension as the day of their initial strike grew nigh. Everyone could innately sense that this battle would be quite unlike any that they had fought before, and even as the made final preparations for moving their warriors through the portals Harry and Faykan would open when the castle was liberated, he could sense that nerves were on edge, which almost lead to some unfortunate fights breaking out.

Luckily Hermione was well attuned to the goings on of the many people that lived around the tower and was able to intervene and prevent any disastrous conflicts from emerging on the brink of the siege of Hogwarts.

At last, the morn of their day of battle came. Harry arose with the sun, ticking off the hours until what he hoped was the final battle would commence. Standing atop Orthanc, he stared into the west, thinking of those in the school, how bold and courageous they had been up to this point, to believe so strongly in him that they would risk themselves to fight back against the servants of Voldemort.

"You sense it as well, then…" Faykan said as he appeared from below.

"The deep calm before the final clash," Harry affirmed, nodding slightly. "It is both great and terrible to know that this will end the war, one way or another… Fay…"

"Yes, _Kentano_?"

"Can Voldemort truly win?" Harry asked, intently curious what his close friend and mentor would say.

Faykan was silent for a long time, watching the horizon over the forest surrounding them. "Evil can never truly win… shadows may darken the sky for long periods of time, but inevitably the sun will rise, bright and glorious as ever before. Such is the way of things; light will banish the darkness, then fade away, only to return again."

"A never ending cycle…" Harry surmised, frowning at the seeming uselessness of it all.

"For what we must be concerned with, yes, but simply because the cycle itself never ends does not mean that the course it runs has no limit. We must make sure when that final end comes, that Light is in power, or all would be lost." Faykan explained.

"I think I am beginning to understand what you mean…" Harry said, pondering the eternal course of the world they lived in, within its own limited lifespan.

Faykan smiled at him, "Philosophical discourse aside, we have much that needs to be done in the here and now, and the future can take care of itself."

Harry nodded, and together the pair of Istari descended the tower. It was still early in the morning, but the others were already awake and gathering their final things for the mission. They intended to leave as soon as the goblins arrived, so that they were in position to take the castle by sundown.

By the time all five of them assembled out on the wide lawns before Orthanc, King Ragnok could be seen, along with his warriors, marching toward them from the far side of the sea of tents.

"Wait for me!" came another voice from the tower just then. They all turned to see Neville running down the steps after them. "You're not going to free Hogwarts without me." He added, stopping before them just as the goblins arrived.

Harry shared a short look with Faykan, both of them knowing that this would probably happen, and they smiled. "Of course we wouldn't go without you, dear Neville…" Harry said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. Turning to face the goblins, Harry nodded.

"It is time," Faykan announced, and he raised his staff.

The spear shaped sapphire atop the silver staff flared to life, throw a small gust around their ankles as Faykan's power poured through the focus, finding the folds in space and time, and bending them back, peeling open a portal to the center of the dark forest, where the spiders of Aragog were defeated over a year ago.

The trees of the forest were silent, yet the air was thick and hung like a dark cloud over the leaf strewn ground as their band marched through the dimensional gateway. Though they could not see it through the thickness of the trees, Harry could sense Hogwarts castle just beyond them, looming in magical strength but smelling of the taint of darkness.

Harry frowned. The darkness must be purged from this place. It was an unnatural sensation for his first home, the place he once felt safe, and it angered him as they began the march toward the castle. The sun began its decent as they trekked through to the edge of the forest, casting deep shadows across the lawns of the castle, which looked poorly cared for and overgrown.

Harry had expected this, as it was highly unlikely that the known Order member and longtime advocate of Dumbledore, Hagrid, wouldn't have been permitted to stay on at the school when control transferred to Voldemort.

Once the sun touched the horizon, Faykan turned to the goblin attack force that had joined them, "You know what to do, and we'll meet you inside when we liberate the school from the Death Eaters."

Ragnok nodded, and his warriors immediately split off in many different directions, sticking to the shadows and moving silently to where Headmaster Snape had told them the hidden knots of orcish warriors lay hidden to defend the school.

Meanwhile, Harry, Faykan and the others cast disillusionment charms over themselves, sprinting across the lawns to the greenhouses, circling around the castle almost to the edge of the cliffs it was founded upon, and reaching a small crevasse just out of sight of the grounds. Harry wondered how many years it had been since someone had even come to this side of the castle.

From the air this section of the castle walls would look unremarkable, but close up Harry could tell instantly that this was a somewhat different layer of stonework. "This has been here since the beginning of Hogwarts," Faykan explained, sliding his hands over the stone, "a quickly forgotten secret passage because it leads to the Great Hall. Ironic really, that its one of the few secrets that Tom never discovered…"

With a minor shove, Faykan caused the section of wall to swing inward, revealing a tunnel into the castle. Staring into the darkness of the secret passage, Harry knew that this was the point of no return. Knowing that his friends were with him, Harry started into the castle, his robes sweeping up small cloud of dust from the passage's long neglect.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix awoke with a start, sensing something not right in the castle. Unbeknownst to Headmaster Snape, she had slowly immersed her magic into the wards, adding a layer of monitoring to the defenses of the castle. Wanded magic was still a struggle for her, so she had to utilize a mix of runes and blood magic to achieve the effect, but even as Nott scampered into the room, Bellatrix had already gathered what things she needed, and was ready to depart to safer places.

"The attack has begun," the boy said simply, and Bellatrix turned to look at him.

"Yes, I know. We need to make it to the ward boundaries to warn the Master," she responded, stepping past Nott and out into the dungeon corridor. It had been a long while since she had left these passages, and it felt wonderful to think of finally leaving and feeling the fresh air outside again.

"The main door would be quickest I think," Nott said as he hurried to catch up to her longer strides, "The Light would be seeking some alternative means to enter, undetected as they believe."

"Very good…" Bellatrix said, turning to him as they reached the stairs leading up to the Entrance Hall, "You must warn the Carrows, have them put up some kind of fight to buy time for the Dark Lord to arrive. Go now!" she said, and the boy dashed up the stairs and out of sight.

The Dark Lord's most faithful was about to turn away from the front doors herself, when the large doors to the Great Hall banged open, and she caught only a glance of light and steel betraying the appearance of Alatar and his warriors. Luckily they missed her as she slipped into the shadows of the grounds.

As she snuck across the grounds toward the front gates, Bellatrix spotted several bands of Goblin assassins systematically eliminating the orcish garrison stationed all around the castle. As she passed the gates, the first sounds of battle erupted from the castle.

Looking back at the Dark Lord's prized fortress, Bellatrix knew that he was not going to be pleased when he learned of the situation happening here.

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Hermione thought she spotted a flash of movement as they entered the Entrance Hall, but Neville, Ron, Draco, Harry and Faykan all started moving in the opposite direction, and she had no time to investigate. They had already set to split into three teams; she and Ron were to head up to Professor McGonagall's office and send out the warning to the teachers, while Neville and Draco went to Gryffindor Tower and rallied the students. Finally, Faykan and Harry were to head off Nott, where ever he may be according to the Marauder's map and claim the last Horcrux.

It would be tricky, but if they could pull off the different portions as close to each other as possible, they may be able to defeat the Carrows and other Death Eaters before they realized what was happening.

Just then, as they were mounting the grand staircase to split off in their different directions, a voice, magically amplified rang throughout the castle. "Intruders in the castle, all students are to remain in their dormitories; all security forces converge on the grand staircases and eliminate the intruders!"

"Well, so much for the element of surprise," Harry said sarcastically.

"Everyone, take the secret passages, go!" Faykan ordered, and Hermione and Ron split off and dashed behind a tapestry that lead up to the third floor, as close to the Transfiguration corridor as they could get from their current position. There was little chance that the Death Eaters knew much if anything about the passages from back when they attended the school.

Peering out from an alcove behind a suit of armor, Ron snickered as several black robed men ran past along the corridor. "Seems good help is so hard to find these days…" he joked, and Hermione had to suppress the giggle that threatened to give away their location.

Once the coast was clear, they quickly dashed across the corridor, running as quietly as they dared, and arrived outside Professor McGonagall's office. Only the barest of knocking was required to rouse the Transfiguration Mistress, who appeared in a long nightgown and her hair in curlers. She gasped on seeing the pair of them, and quickly ushered them inside her office.

"Granger, Weasley, explain how and why you're here in the castle." She said briskly, and Hermione hurried to explain the current takeover, as well as their plans for protecting the students as they lured Voldemort to attack the castle and finish him off for good.

Whatever Professor McGonagall was expecting, this was anything but. "I knew Potter and Undol were insane at times before, but I believe this act takes the preverbal cake…" she said, holding a hand to her head as though to stave off a migraine. "Alright, I'll gather the teachers, and we will begin evacuating the students as soon as we can."

With a flourish of her wand, the Professor transfigured her clothing into her usual green robe and pointed black hat. "Let's go!" she commanded, throwing her door open, just as a large explosion rocked the upper level of the school.

"What on earth!?" McGonagall cried, but Hermione had a sinking fear. Harry and Faykan had found Nott.

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Draco and Neville had slipped into an alcove when the command to separate was given, and took a small detour along the ground floor to a passage that would take them up to the fifth floor. From there they double backed along the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor, and up a side staircase to the seventh floor, emerging somewhere near to the Room of Requirement. With no Death Eaters in sight, the pair sprinted the last few turns to Gryffindor Tower.

"What on earth are you lot doing here?" demanded the Fat Lady, putting her hands on her hips as she stared down at them.

"The school is in danger," Draco said quickly, pleading for the woman to open up, "we need to rally those students that can help drive out the Death Eaters, please open! You know we're Gryffindor…"

"I'm sorry, but the rule is that only Professor can enter without the password…" the painting said, looking truly apologetic.

"Then open for me, dear lady…" said a smooth voice behind the pair of them. Draco and Neville whirled, relaxing only when Professor Snape emerged from the shadows. "I figured you were to come here and rally the main contingent of the D.A., so I waited here."

Turning back to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Severus raised a single eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, of course I'll open for you, Headmaster…" she stammered, swinging open immediately. The three of them entered, and Professor Snape raised his wand, causing a flurry of small fireworks to fly up the staircases, exploding at every level and awakening the entire tower.

The students flew down the stairs in a panic, most with wands drawn, only some wearing their robes. "Headmaster," one of the prefects, a student Draco didn't recognize, said hurriedly, "what's the matter?"

Instead of answering, Severus stepped aside, revealing Draco and Neville to the gathered students, whose confused faces brightened with excitement and in some cases of the older students, worry. "Draco!" cried a voice from the girl's stairwell, and he had only moments to prepare for when Ginny slammed full force into him, embracing him.

This was the breaking point for the other Gryffindors, who swarmed around the pair of them, talking excitedly and bombarding them with questions. Over Ginny's head, Draco saw Neville quickly explaining everything that had happened since he left Hogwarts, and about the impending attack. Several of the most studious of the D.A. immediately ran for their coins to warn the other houses, and several more dashed to the portrait hole, intent of readying the Room of Requirement for a full meeting of the D.A. as well as the gathering of weapons.

The others escorted Professor Snape, Draco, Ginny and Neville after these scouts, assembling in the Room even as the other houses started flooding in from their own common rooms.

It had seemed that even despite Harry and their absence from the school, the student organization had only gained momentum, even gaining a substantial following from Slytherin, comprising those who had been affect the most by Draco's switch of house, among other things.

It didn't take long to repeat the basic information for the other three houses, and teams were quickly organized to return the younger years to the dorms, as well as the sixth and seventh years gathering weapons to drive out the Death Eaters from the castle.

Even as the students started mobilizing, Professor Snape started back to the Headmaster's Tower, so that he had plausible deniability in case he was called upon to help the Death Eaters.

As they started to emerge from the Room, weapons and wands at the ready, the floor rumbled as below them something exploded. "That's the signal," Draco said, hefting _Andúril_ , and darting forward, Ginny at his side and a large group of other students at his back. Harry and Faykan had engaged Nott, and it was their job to flank the Death Eaters from above as the teachers arrived from all directions.

Sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them, they hurried across to the Grand staircase. Below, on the fourth and fifth floors, fighting had broken out. "Come on!" Draco shouted, leading the resistant group of students as they nearly flew down the stairs. At the fifth floor, Draco caught a flash of spell work as a burst of shining light, which was a good indicator that that was where Faykan, Harry and Nott were battling, meaning that they needed to advance to the fourth floor.

Leading his group past the Istari's battle over the Horcrux, Draco scrambled down to the floor below, and turned sharply into the Defense Against the Dark Art's corridor. The Death Eaters, including the two Carrow siblings who had been made teachers, were backpedaling away from the rest of the professors, as McGonagall and Flitwick spearheaded a powerful duel between the two groups.

Drawing _Andúril_ forth, Draco screamed his war cry, " _Elendil_!" surprising the Death Eaters and charging their flank, bull rushing over the first that crossed his path and cutting down a second that was trying to line up a curse on Ginny. The other students, embolden by the presence of the teachers fighting the same fight, roared in answer, and the air quickly became thick with spells, covering the charge of those who had trained more intensively with martial weaponry.

Trapped on two fronts, the Death Eaters were quickly pushed to their limits, but even as Headmaster Snape arrived, they cheered, thinking themselves saved from the wrath of the school.

"Draco," Severus said quickly, "Where is Nott?"

Before Draco could even answer, a shattering explosion from directly above them drew the attention of all present. Professor Snape blanched white, and dashed for the staircase, taking all the hope of the Death Eaters with him. These were quickly deprived of the wands and escorted by the teachers and seventh years to the dungeons for safe keeping.


	15. Chapter 14

**We've set foot on the final stretch, the net is drawing and the last loose ends are gathered to be tied. Enjoy! R &R!**

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 **The Great Silence before the Storm**

Voldemort sensed the attack on his school long before loyal Bellatrix appeared to warn him of it. The question however, was why the fools of the Light thought that a victory at his personal stronghold was to their advantage. There was truly only one great thing of worth in the school, and it was in the possession of another trusted...

However, perhaps that secret wasn't as safe as he had at first suspected. Dumbledore was craftier than the Dark Lord gave the man credit for at times, so why wouldn't it be that the man found out Lord Voldemort's secret of immortality...

He had to make absolutely sure before committing an all out attack, but to be safe he ordered Bellatrix to muster his forces, and have them all at the gates of Hogwarts as soon as remotely possible.

Meanwhile, he spent his time apparating across the country, growing steadily more angry and worried as time went on. The cave, the vault, the hovel, and Godric's Hollow were all showing signs of recent presences, more horribly those of the Light. Driven by maddening horror, the Dark Lord realized that he was close to vulnerable, and he must reach Hogwarts with his army before the boy could find his last treasure. The Nott boy was powerful, and hopefully he had the sense to escape before the attack occurred.

Flooding the country with his dark power, the Lord of the Earth sent out the call for all his forces to converge on the school, over and above what he felt would be needed to crush this petty resistance. His personal feelings for the building aside, he would level the famous school before allowing his final Horcrux to be harmed by the damnable Light.

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Harry sprinted up the stairs with Faykan hot on his heels. The map showed them that Nott was up on the fifth floor, leading a group of Death Eaters from the various classrooms back down. Hoping that the other boy still had the final Horcrux on him, they crashed through the door to the fifth floor, cutting off their primary route down.

"This is my fight," Nott said hastily to the others, who for some reason shrank back as the boy spoke, as though he was of a higher ranking in Voldemort's system than they. "Go back and take the secret passage down one floor, then go past the Great Hall staircase..."

As the other Death Eaters fled, Nott turned to face the pair of Istari dead on. Harry saw the tiny, tarnished crown sparkling in the torchlight, and knew instinctively that this soul container of Voldemort's was active, and would fight back against them through Nott.

There were no words between them, as it was obvious that Nott was well beyond all reason, and the first volley of spells met each other head on in the center of the corridor, causing a deafening bang to echo throughout the castle.

Harry and Faykan dodged to either side, staffs twirling as they cast powerful elven magic of protection and attack, seeking with all their might to break through the dark enchantments that Nott wove around himself. The boy was far stronger than Harry had guessed, but it had to be due to the Horcrux upon his head.

Faykan drew _Glamdring_ , and under covering fire from Harry, charged at Nott, his weapons ready to deliver fatal blows to the head and abdomen.

Surprising them both, Nott turned, summoning a suit of armor to cash into Faykan, forcing the older Istari to dodge back and break off his charge, even as Nott returned to the offensive, almost hissing as he launched terrible curses from his wand, each one as lethal and cruel as any that Voldemort or Bellatrix could cast.

This wasn't something they could allow. Whether the boy was possessed or not they needed the Horcrux, and removing such a dangerous threat from the school was only the barest of seconds to that goal. Even as Faykan was forced back, Hadhafang was unsheathed and Harry sped towards the crazed Slytherin. Shrapnel of stone and metal blasted at him as Nott detonated another statue, but Harry ignored the minor cuts and gashes that were caused by it. Staff ahead of him, he released a blinding flash of light seconds before running right over Nott.

The boy shrieked, but rolled out of the way to avoid the elven blade. Thick darkness erupted from Nott's wand, battling the light that poured from Harry's staff, but the Istari in training was not to be outdone. Calling upon the Valar to guide him, he unleashed the power that he had seen Faykan used, and had feared beforehand. Through the powerful bond of the _Maiar_ , he was able to link with the other four of the Istari, combining their magic in part to one of their bodies, creating a being that was greater and more terrible than any mortal creature in all of _Arda_.

Light poured from his eyes, but this time he was not blinded. If anything, Harry felt his sight magnify leaps and bounds beyond what he thought possible. Magic tingled in his every move, and the staff and sword in his hands grew freezing cold in his grip. The Flame of Anor burned in his being, and on the opposite side of Nott, he could see Faykan, blue eyes lost in the translucent white of Valinor. It was a near forbidden power, and would leave them weakened when it was finished, but to put down Nott and the final Horcrux once and for all, it was necessary.

Nott must have expected them to do this, as at the same moment that they raised their staffs to blast him with overwhelming power, he stared to hiss in the Black Speech of Mordor, raising a shield of thick dark power over him. Both beams of pure white magic struck just as the shield rose, enveloping Nott in magic, making the castle shudder around them.

Harry didn't think there was much outside of Voldemort himself that could withstand a direct blast of Istari magic, let alone two, yet when their spells were spent, and they returned to their normal states, Nott rose, the ground around him smoking from the blasts of magic.

"My Lord has warned me of your tricks…" Nott taunted briefly, "You will find me not so easy to defeat."

Harry gritted his teeth, despite their vast magical prowess; it had taken quite a bit out of them for that one powerful co-attack, and while they still held the clear upper hand, it was daunting that Nott had survived so easily. If he could, how difficult was the final battle with Voldemort to be?

The duel recommenced in earnest, spells flying from both staff and wand in swarms. Who thought that in two short years that Nott could grow so powerful? It had to be the influence of the Horcrux. But getting close enough to remove it seemed beyond the question.

That was until Harry spotted Professor Snape charge into the mix.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Severus knew immediately upon the second blast rumbling his school that Harry and Faykan needed help. He would trust no one else but himself to do this, as the risk of leaping into the battle that already included the two powerful wizards on earth seemed little more than suicide.

Nevertheless, he sprinted up the stairs, turning the corner and being forced to dodge a spell instantly that had leapt from Harry's staff. Nott was effectively holding off the attack of both Istari, while flanked by them. If not for the dire circumstances related to the need of the battle, Severus would almost have been impressed. However, he charged toward the fight, blocking and deflecting what spells came at him from the chaos ahead.

As he dashed past Faykan, the boy shouted at him. Severus spared him a single glance, and was glad that he did. "Sev!" the boy cried, throwing the long silver blade to him. Severus had never participated in Quidditch, and wasn't fond of flying altogether, but his reflexes from years as a Death Eater and protecting mindless dunderheads from potion accidents served just as well to snatch the sword's hilt as the blade tumbled through the air toward him.

As he whirled on Nott, the boy launched a dark curse, slicing heavily into Severus' wand arm. But the action left the boy wide open. Swinging heavily, Severus' attack crashed down on the circlet of silver upon the boy's head, cracking the gems and splitting the silver eagle mounted at its peak.

Nott screamed, despite not actually being physically struck with the sword. Severus had lifted a blade or two in his days and knew how to prevent injury when he wanted. But it didn't make a difference here. Nott collapsed, magical energy starting to leak from his eyes, ears and nose as the boy started to thrash on the ground.

Harry started forward, probably to try and help, but Severus threw up an arm. "There's nothing that can be done…" he said neutrally, watching pitifully as the boy's life force simply leaked out of him.

"But…" Harry said, desperate to save any being, even this boy turned monster in front of them from suffering.

"Sev is right Harry," Faykan said, expressing the same guarded neutrality as Severus, a Slytherin skill. "From being possessed for so long by the Horcrux, Nott's life force was tied to the item, he depended on it, and now it's trying to leech energy from him to survive, but… well, so you see…"

Severus nodded grimly, knowing what was currently running through the Istari's mind. If this was how Nott died from the destruction of an object Horcrux, how were they to preserve Harry and destroy the Horcrux within him?

Before Severus could even catch Faykan's eye again, as this was an issue that greatly had to be discussed between them all, Harry and the Istari were off like shots, sprinting back down to the grounds to open the portals and admit the armies of Light to fortify the castle against the Dark Lord's forces.

The Potions Master turned Headmaster could see the problem a mile away. Faykan was clearly running away from the very idea that he might lose Harry, unwilling to even speak of it to another person.

Severus wanted to say that he didn't understand the madness of the ancient Istari turned teenager in regards to this, but he knew what it was like all too well. There was nothing that Severus wouldn't have done at the time to put aside the facts that the Dark Lord wanted to destroy his dear Lily Evans and her son. It was a dark place, one that threatened his own sanity, and Severus was certain that Faykan, with his added centuries of experience, could only have the feeling compounded over several lifetimes of walking the earth.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione raced through the corridors along with Ron and Draco, struggling to keep Harry or Faykan in view as they sprinted down to the grounds. How the pair ran so quickly, Hermione thought she may never figure out.

By the time they raced out onto the darkened grass lawns, Faykan and Harry were already weaving their magic in large wide arcs over the grounds. Rift after rift sprung into existence all over, widening until they began disgorging warriors of varying shapes and races.

Legions of dwarves spilled forth from one of the largest rifts, while Cavalry of Rohan and many more goblin warriors flooded the grounds. Towering over them all were the Beornings, axes sharpened to a frightening gleam as they anticipated the battle ahead.

All creatures had their orders prearranged, and the moment they exited the portals they scattered, dwarves and Rohirrim making their way to the castle to join with the teachers and oldest students, while goblins flocked to the grounds in pockets, drawing tools and spades to entrench positions stretching from the front courtyards of the castle all the way to the gates to Hogsmeade.

This long stretch was where the heaviest fighting was sure to take place, and they needed every available moment to make it that much harder for Voldemort's forces to advance toward the castle. Meanwhile the dwarves would be creating their own little surprises from within the castle. A great many barrels of strange powders were being carted in; along with other near modern explosives that Hermione felt that in any other hands would be far more a liability than an asset.

Amid it all, Harry and Faykan were watching in serious contemplation as Hermione, Ron and Draco reached them. Looking around at the assembling forces, Ron swallowed loudly, "Not many to work with this lot…" he commented.

"More will come," Harry replied, sparing the red head a glance before returning his attention to Faykan, who was steadily gazing upward. Above them all, a swirl of darkened shapes was spiraling in a wide circle over the grounds. Crebain, the messengers of Fanghorn and Orthanc, the same birds that had assisted them all for years on end, were drawing together from their long use as spies, but for war or scouting Hermione was unsure.

"The board is set…" Faykan mumbled to himself, while the others watched in confusion, "… and the pieces are moving…"

"Here the hammer stroke will fall hardest," Harry commented, gazing out toward Hogsmeade, "We cannot expect the villagers to survive this battle if they remain in their homes. They must be warned."

"They will be…" Faykan replied, and couldn't help but feel slightly put out that she and the other two boys were being all but ignored amid the two powerful wizards' dialogue.

"Mere hours remain before our enemy is ready," Faykan said after a moment, and the cryptic solemnity quickly grated on Hermione's nerves.

"Well, what do we plan to do about this?" she piped up, and Faykan turned as if noticing her for the first time.

He smiled softly, before raising his staff. "We send a clear message," was all he replied before a burst of light shot straight into the air from his staff. Once it reached an altitude higher than even the Astronomy tower the light exploded outward like a firework, revealing the lightning bolt shaped design of Dumbledore's Army's banner, floating proud and strong over the castle that was indeed their home now.

"Seems a perfectly good declaration of war, if I say so myself," Faykan said after a few moments of gazing up at the magical banner, smirking to himself as he did so. "We ought to go organize the teachers and students, set up channels to evacuate those far too young to fight, and post those with the best spell casting abilities in key points around the school."

They turned back to the castle once more, but Hermione lingered a few moments longer, watching the magical lightning bolt on its quadrangle of colors, shimmering boldly in the darkening sky. It seemed so long ago that they had created that symbol, and she had never expected to truly need to use it in such a manner. It was frightening to know that the greatest battle of the war was drawing nearer to them, and they were planning to fight it head on, and stop the madness from spreading to the rest of their world.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix grimaced as she felt her mark continuing to burn, as it had done for almost the entire night when she arrived at her Lord's side. The Dark Lord had called for his entire armies to congregate on the outskirts of Hogwarts, ready to meet the challenge set by Potter and his pitiful little band over the school, and wipe them out once and for all.

But even still, something about her Lord's manner made Bellatrix uneasy. Where once the man would rage and torture his own on occasion, for insurmountable stupidity or failure, now he was dishing out extreme vengeance against even the slightest infraction to his will. While the hammer of his wrath had never as of yet fallen upon Bella, it was still disconcerting to think that even her lofty position might not be sufficient to spare her from such treatment.

She, Lucius, and Abdurahman, as the most trusted of the Dark Lord's followers were given the task of signaling the various forces spread throughout magical Europe to convene on the school, and their various travel methods they ought to arrive within two days worth. She was not pleased with the delay, as that would only give Potter's forces more time to entrench themselves in the school, and make the oncoming battle all the more irritating for them.

Not that Bellatrix cared for the casualties that would no doubt rank up rather quickly on both sides; the fact that their numbers easily dwarfed the Light's made up for far more than that. It was more worry for the state that her Lord would be left in when they arrived, and discovered whatever Potter and his Istari friend had done at the prestigious school.

Idly, Bellatrix had wondered what had become of Nott and Snape, probably captured or some pathetic Light mercy, waiting for the battle to be over so that they could be hypothetically held for their 'crimes' or some other rubbish. Like they really thought that they could win against the swarms that the Dark Lord commanded. It was a joke to fight against them, one that Bellatrix would share in the last laugh over, when Potter and his friends were dead at their feet, and the armies of Darkness spread to carry the Dark Lord's power throughout the world.

The last stop that Bellatrix had to make, before returning to the Dark Lord's staging ground, so that they could begin the march to Hogwarts, was the boarders of the Middle East, further east and south by far than anywhere she had been before. The fact that her Lord's reach was so long was impressive, even if Madam Zabini wasn't in Bellatrix's good graces. It didn't make good for a wife to have so many dead husbands, but the woman had garnered a great deal of power and influence through the marriages and subsequent deaths, so she wouldn't scoff at the other woman to her face.

When Bellatrix arrived at the spacious Zabini manor house, she was surprised to find both of the Zabini family members present. Ought the son to be back at Hogwarts right now? Disregarding the boy, Bellatrix strode up to the haughty looking mother.

"What do you want now Bellatrix, or rather what is the Dark Lord's wishes?" the woman said, looking down her nose at Bella as thought she was nothing more than an insect. It burned the mad witches blood to be spoken to with such contempt, but she held back the venom that threatened to spill forth, ally or not the Zabini matriarch was no friend of the Blacks.

"The time has come," Bella said hastily, "the Dark Lord calls the Haradrim to renew their ancient oaths, and fight for the name of the Dark Lord of the Earth…"

Madam Zabini stared at Bellatrix for a long moment and whether she was considering the message or not, Bella could not tell. "Does he now…" she said softly, standing and turning to exchange a glance with her son. The boy nodded once, and walked out of the room obediently. "We will obey his commands," Zabini continued, "although I wonder if you know the true meaning of the words you just spoke Bellatrix…"

"Of course I do!" Bellatrix demanded, her rage on the surface. How dare this woman infer that she was ignorant of the Dark Lord and his power, or his station in the world; his will was absolute, and there was none other that had the power or influence that he had.

"Of course, naturally…" Zabini replied coolly, her eyes cold and hard, but betraying nothing of what was thought behind them. "We will be ready for when we are needed. You can return to your master at you leisure…"

Bellatrix growled at being dismissed so offhandedly, but she had important business to attend to anyway, and she stormed from the manor with all haste, despite wanting to wipe the small smirk from the Zabini boy's face as she passed him in the corridor before the main doors. Let the fools think themselves better than she. In the end, she was the most faithful of the Dark Lord's warriors, and she would be rewarded beyond all of them for her time and service.

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Hogwarts quickly became a madhouse of activity.

Draco was scrambling against the tide of students as the Heads of House guided them to the Great Hall, where Faykan and Harry had opened portals to take them safely to Orthanc and well away from the upcoming battle. All students under seventeen were to be sent back, although many of the fifth and sixth years were protesting loudly, Ginny leading their rebellion against the determination.

But it was for the best, and Draco immensely agreed that Ginny and several of the others ought to be protected, but he knew that stating his opinion about her protection wasn't wise, especially when she and Mrs. Weasley started to row about it in the middle of an upper corridor. Ginny was hell bent on standing with him, and truthfully there were few that Draco would honestly trust to watch his back, his need to see her safe notwithstanding. Therefore he wisely chose to avoid the argument altogether, lest he enrage either side.

At the same time, Order of the Phoenix members were Flooing in from all over, and also many adult British wizards and witches, who nodded respectfully when they encountered Draco. He recognized a few vaguely, mainly as faces from crowds that he and Harry had spoken in front of, both this or last year.

It was somewhat inspiring to know that they're words had had some effect on the wizarding populace, and that many were at last choosing to take up wands against Voldemort and his dark hordes. He wasn't sure what sort of experience any of them had in comparison to even the D.A, but every wand for them was appreciated.

Many were nervous about the oncoming army of dark creatures and Death Eaters, and Draco couldn't blame them for that fear. It was a naturally reaction to intense evil and danger. Draco wasn't sure there was much he could do, but he felt impressed to say something to bolster the people's courage in the face of battle.

"Citizens of wizarding Britain, friends and allies of the free peoples of the West, Hear me!" Draco said, pausing as the assembled people in the Great Hall turned to him, "I see in your eyes the great fear and worry over the oncoming storm. I will not say that it does not affect me as well. Days may yet come that herald an ending of the magical world, or an oppressing Dark Lord that will indeed eclipse all light that we hold dear, but I say it is not to be this day, for this day we will fight!"

The crowd seemed to steel their resolve, but there was still a great layer of tension in the air, that Draco didn't like. "By all those you hold dear on this good earth, I therefore bid you to stand, free peoples of the west!" he cried, drawing forth _Andúril_ and raising it to the ceiling.

Bright flames leapt from the blade, accompanied by a powerful shout of courage from the soon to be defenders of the school. With that they all started anew at their various tasks, each with bolstered vigor to their motions. Hopefully the fires of hope had been started and would warm them against the wintry chill that came with Voldemort's forces of fear.

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Harry stood atop the highest battlements, overlooking the hasty construction of ditches and trenches throughout the grounds by the goblin laborers with Faykan at his side. Far above, the shimmering symbol of their cause, Dumbledore's Army, shone proudly over the darkening terrain.

"It ought to take at least a day for Voldemort to gather forces sufficient to assault us openly, but I wouldn't be surprised if he launches preemptive strikes to try and prevent us from full utilizing our defenses against him." Faykan said to the open air, more speaking hypothetically then by fact.

"With Hogwarts, and us, as his potential prize, it is difficult to say what the madman might choose to do," Harry countered, drawing on knowledge both personal and otherworldly. When faced with great desire and adversity, Dark Lords and other would-be dictators often did very selfish and fool hearty things in their bids for power.

"This is true," Faykan acknowledged with a nod. "He may yet wait until his full strength is gathered, and choose to fall upon us like a hammer upon an anvil."

"What more can we do that we have not done already?" Harry asked, longing to hear of some other options that they had forgotten, or set aside in their race to usher in this final confrontation.

Faykan shifted slightly, which was an odd movement for the normally sure and confidant Istari. It was therefore noticed immediately by Harry, and raised much suspicion. "What are you hiding from me this time Fay?" he probed, becoming greatly saddened by the guilt that flashed across his friend's face and aura. He had promised after all…

Sagging slightly Faykan turned to watch the sky over Hogsmeade, and softly started to speak, "I know I made an oath to never withhold crucial information from you again, _Kentano_ , but the wishes of a dying man, along with my own selfishness to see his words die with him prevented me from making important mention of a dire fact…"

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked, to which Faykan nodded.

"He was absolutely convinced that there was a predetermined fate for you, Harry, since the time Voldemort first attacked you. One that, when I learned of it, I lashed back at the man over, demanding that it had to be false, or at the least reversible without the old man's drastic means being even considered. But I, even I have not as yet discovered a means to bring it about with destroying you, Harry."

Harry grew very quiet, coaxing the full truth from Faykan, who turned away in sad disgust. "There is one Horcrux of Voldemort's remaining." He said after a time.

Both Istari were silent for a long moment, and then Harry sighed, "I knew it was going far too easily for us this year…" he said, attempting and failing to inject humor into the mood, "It does explain a lot about me that has happened over the years, you know…"

Faykan managed a grim smile, but the point was made. Taking a deep breath, Harry turned to stare out toward Hogsmeade, "So it's all been for naught, then?" he asked, "The war, I mean. We can't win until all the Horcruxes are gone."

Faykan was silent again, and Harry felt the weight of hopelessness washing over him. Idly he pulled from his robe the Phial of Galadriel, looking at the translucent water through its crystal container. "A light in dark places, when all other lights go out…" he recited to himself, remembering the instructions of how to use the powerful and wondrous object, housing the light of a Silmaril set in the heavens as _Eärendil's_ star.

Catching movement from the corner of his eye, Harry started to turn back to Faykan, but his fellow Istari lunged forward, snatching the crystal Phial from him. "Of course," he murmured to himself, turning the crystal over in his hands, "the answer was right here in front of me the entire time, preplanned by the Lady of the Wood herself."

Turning back to look at Harry with wide eyes, Faykan took a step forward. "Hold perfectly still Harry, I believe I have solved the issue…" he said carefully, pulling the crystal stop from the Phial. Eyes wide at what was happening, Harry wanted to back away, unsure what was going to happen, but his feet were rooted to the spot, and carefully Faykan poured a small amount of the water upon his face, bathing the scar in a small fraction of the Phial's contents.

" _Aiya,_ _Eärendil_ _Elenion Ancalima_!" Faykan cried, holding the crystal up to Harry's face, and he had to shut his eyes to block out the blinding white light as the Phial burst into bright illumination. His scar felt as though it had been dipped in molten metal, but Harry didn't dare move to brush the water away, especially when a deep, inhuman shriek was heard coming from his own head.

Everything seemed to slow to a standstill for a moment, and the agony seemed to stretch out over the extended time, before it abruptly ended. Tipping forward from the strain of resisting the human urge to recoil at the pain, Harry's eyes widened when the water dripping from his face was black and filthy. Was _that_ what had been inside the scar for so long?

Oddly enough, Harry felt immensely better upon seeing the darkness extracted from himself, almost lighter, like a fog was swept away from his mind.

"It is finished," Faykan said, replacing the stopper of the Phial and returning the artifact to Harry. He was smiling, far brighter and fuller than Harry remembered seeing in almost three years time. All that was left for them was to wait for the battle to reach them, and eliminate the monster of Voldemort once and for all.

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The Dark Lord lurched where he stood as he felt the final Horcrux be utterly destroyed. Now at last was the time to strike. Rising up in great power, for he was absolute, and mortals were to tremble before him, he took command of his host. The feeble man was powerless against the mental onslaught of the Great One, his oft destroyed soul a mere fraction of the strength of the Dark Lord of the Earth.

"My Lord?" said one of the servants nearest to him, and as the Dark Lord gained control of his chosen vessel at last; he turned to look at the woman. Once fair, but now a disgustingly hollow shell of former glory, the insane creature before him was little more than a flightless bird, useless in all but a few remaining tasks.

"Give the order," the Dark Lord commanded, testing the limits of his new form, and relishing the use of a physical body once again. After so many centuries it was still as simple as a gesture and a thought to move, to speak. He had watched his vessel work his powerful magic, use the great gift that the Dark Lord himself had commanded delivered to him, and now all his waiting and plotting had come to fruition.

However there was still the Istari, and his forces that hindered his return in full. They all must die. The woman scurried to obey him, not even questioning the change of demeanor in her Lord, and the Dark Lord of the Earth rose to follow in her wake, sensing discreetly that even his faithful minions had sensed his return.

Soon his full strength would be gathered, and once again, for a third time, he would seek to cover all the land with darkness, and turn this Middle Earth into his own kingdom. The Great Darkness had once sought to destroy, but the Dark Lord had learned differently, and knew that to seek complete domination over the peoples of this world was worth far more than any spiting of the great powers that had created them.

He would succeed where the great Morgoth had failed, for he was wiser, stronger, and once again clothed in a body of the earth.

Skin stretching over his face in a smile, the Dark Lord Sauron watched as his great army once more came together under his terrible banner. This time, there was no pathetic Halfling to stop him, no wizard who could match him, and no damnable Heir of the house of Isildur to outwit him.

"They have all assembled my Lord," the woman said as she returned, bowing and scraping at the earth before him as her kind ought to be before the Dark God of the East.

Ignoring the woman, the Dark Lord turned to find his true general, summoning him to his side with a thought. The witch shrank back as the Lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of all his servants approached, conversing with his master in the Black Speech of his ancient realm.

This being, once a mortal man, who had now transcended death to the realms of shadow and passed from age to age like an ever present darkness would once again take up his mighty role for his Lord. Only the one that was said no living man could kill would be good enough to lead Sauron's armies in war, the last war.

The commands understood, the Witch King of Angmar turned, mounting his black steed and bellowing a cry that was chorused by all the dark creatures for miles around. They knew the call to battle, remembered it from ages past like the very blood in their veins. Sauron, the Dark Lord over all the Earth, watched with a darkened smile as his forces departed in mass, heading due north, to where this bastion of the White Council and their allies huddled and waited for death.

Try and fight as they may, they had no hope left. "The age of the elves has passed," Sauron said to himself, relishing the new voice of his own body, "and men crumble and decay as they are weakened. The time of the orc has come at last…"

Extending his new magical powers, given to him by this body, a descendant of his own enemies, Sauron reached through space and teleported to the outskirts of the outlying village before his enemies' stronghold. It was truly ironic, that the line of Isildur would both destroy his own body, then prepare means for him to take up another.

Tasting the air with great care, Sauron felt he powerful light magic that were washing over the castle just across the small village from his position. They would think his armies would take hours to reach them, but they were mistaken. Calling up the massive amount of black lore that he had both learned and created over his long existence, the Dark Lord swept out an arm, burning the fabric of reality to open a doorway for his entire army to pass through.

Within moments the Lord of Angmar was at his side once again, expectantly awaiting his orders. "Begin…" Sauron commanded, and with a roar of power the Witch King held his sword high, signaling the army to attack. Down the slope they charged, weapons glistening and spells flying from the humans that were under his command. When the first battalions were well away, the General of the armies of Mordor dropped his weapon, making the reserves wait for their time of need.

Sauron knew that this battle would take its toll on his servants, and he couldn't allow them all to be slain so quickly. The weakest among them were always sent first, to test the waters of their foe's strength and caliber.

Raising the mortal's wand whose body was now his own, Sauron smirked as he launched the man's symbol into the air without a word. The green, coiling serpent was nothing on the great eye which was his own banner, but for the time being it would suffice to keep his enemies from guessing the true foe that they faced until it was all too late for them to stop him.

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Draco, along with dozens of others working quickly in and around the school stopped as the wind howled with the mad voices of orcs and Death Eaters. Fire flares in the direction of Hogsmeade, and many a villager wept openly at the destruction of the homes and businesses.

But most terrible of all was the Dark Mark as it flared to life over the village. Harry and Faykan appeared at the door of the school. "Our enemy is ready," Faykan said coolly, watching with seemingly serene ease, "his full strength gathered…"

"And only a fool would stand up to this madness now!" blustered someone nearby. Draco turned to see Mad-Eye Moody stomping forward, at the head of several of the key leaders of the Order of the Phoenix. "We ought to have evacuated the school, gone to ground, and started a resistance that would last for years to come against this madman."

Turning softly toward the scarred man, Harry spoke next, "and do you honestly think that would have worked Alastor? Hiding and pecking at Voldemort's hands while he ravaged the whole of Europe? Were we to be content with light skirmishes and small pockets of fighting while the rest of the world suffered? No, our fight is here, when we have the one opportunity to defeat the man once and for all."

"Besides," Faykan added with a smirk, "I thought we were all a little mad to do this in the first place? Otherwise why would you even be here?"

At first Draco thought Moody would rage at the pair of them, but after a few moments the man's face softened slightly, and he threw his head back and laughed, "Ha! You've got me there, you two. Yes we're all a bit mad to fight him here, I think, but where would the fun be in living the practical way all the time. A chance to end it all here is worth dying for."

Harry and Faykan nodded to the Auror, who barked at his people to get back to work, and Draco turned once more to stare at the glowing Dark Mark before he allowed his mind to drift back to preparing the castle for what was to come.


	16. Chapter 15

**Well, what more is there to say at this current point? Let's continue with the cumulating peril! R &R!**

 **Chapter Fifteen**

 **The Great Siege of Hogwarts**

Severus watched the fires in Hogsmead with a growing agitation. He had secretly spied on the Dark Lord for nearly sixteen years, and all that was about to boil into the open. He could only shudder slightly at what fury the man would fall into when he realized that Severus had never truly been his loyal servant, and what punishment was in store for him if the man got through to him.

Atop one of the lower towers of Hogwarts, Severus watched as the encroaching army turned their sights on the school, and slowly began the make their way through the burning village to the gates. Standing there, imposing himself between the Dark Lord's forces and the school was Faykan, staff gleaming in the light of the burning town.

Even as the hordes of dark creatures and Death Eaters passed the last burning building, they whooped and shrieked at the sight of the single figure barring their path before Hogwarts, and started a desperate charge at the gates.

Faykan stood unafraid, like a calm mountain before the raging sea, as the swarms of orcs rushed toward him. Even as they approached the high stone walls around Hogwarts, Faykan merely lifted his staff, obviously speaking a spell that Severus was too far away to hear, but the results were spectacular. The gates slammed shut of their own accord as magic burned through the air above the walls.

Faykan apparated at that point and the walls started to shine with pale blue light as the orcs rushed them. The first to touch the walls, attempting to start scaling over, was disintegrated instantly, the Valar blessed spells burning it away on contact.

Severus smirked at the wisdom of the delaying tactic, almost as though Faykan had planned for these sorts of defenses being needed from a year ago when he assisted Albus in strengthening the wards.

Now they had extra time to fortify and plan for the attack while the Dark Lord fought and scratched at the walls until he figured a way through the wards. It could be hours, but with what Severus knew about the Dark Lord and his tactics, they may have mere minutes at the most before the battle fully commenced.

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Bellatrix frowned angrily as the Istari threw up an impenetrable wall of light around the school. It was a sickeningly weak thing to do, delaying the inevitable at best, cowardly at worst, to hide behind a wall.

Through the lines of orcs she walked with the Dark Lord to the front lines. The man was quiet, uncharacteristically so, and that unnerved Bellatrix more than anything. The man should have expressed his anger, something. But no, he was calm, seemingly collecting his strength and magic. "So," he said slowly, observing the wall before them, "Alatar is buying time for his warriors and their supposed 'chosen one'…"

Bellatrix was confused by her Master's words, but had little opportunity to ponder them as the Dark Lord brandished his wand, speaking words that grated on Bellatrix's ears and made many of the nearest Death Eaters shrink in fear at their darkness. The ring upon the Dark Lord's finger flared brightly with power as he spoke his dark spell, magic seeping from the wand like a fine mist, before flying out and colliding forcefully with the wall.

The concussive blast from the dark mist meeting the shimmering light was astounding, but within moments the wall of light shattered, followed by its stone counterpart under a rain of bombardment hexes.

"Attack…" the Dark Lord commanded, and Bellatrix cackled as the hundreds of nearest orcs snarled in triumph and pushed forward through the breach. Bellatrix turned to see her Master withdrawing to a location where he could observe the battle, and the most loyal followed obediently.

As soon as they mounted the small rise, where Bellatrix remembered the Shrieking Shack stood, they turned and viewed the first defenses that the Light had to offer. Trenches had been dug into the grounds of Hogwarts, each filled to bursting with heavily armed goblin warriors.

The little beasts leapt at the oncoming orcs with their small knives and battle axes, ripping through the orc's dark armor with ferocity and starting a bloody swath just inside the gates of the school. Meanwhile, from the battlements of the castle, a signal flared up into the sky, and from every tower or other vantage point spells rained down onto the rear lines of orcs, raining destruction upon the ranks of creatures.

Bellatrix smiled however, if this was all they could muster so soon, than they had a lot to learn of what the Lord of the Earth was capable of.

Voldemort turned to the other being on the hill with them, and gave a single nod of command. The Lord of Azkaban, a great horned helm further shrouding the features of the dread wraith. With an ear piercing shriek, the towering figure stormed away, reappearing astride a maddened black warhorse.

The dementors swarmed over the hill as the Wrath King charged the breach, their cries rending the air and the auras of fear clouding the sky like their tattered cloaks. The swooped down, rotting hands clawing at goblins left and right, even as their lord drove his steed in the midst of them, a burning sword punishing every goblin that dared approach the Lord of Fear.

The goblins fell back, retreating further up toward the school, and orcs thronged in their place, establishing a forward outpost amid the abandoned and corpse ridden tranches by the gate.

Once the breach was made, the Dementors withdrew, and their Lord returned to Bellatrix and the Dark Lord's side, while orcs and Death Eaters reinforced the new forward front into the grounds, the wizards starting to return fire up at the castle while the orcs pursued the goblins across the lawns.

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Harry waited nervously as the orcs chased the goblin forces towards the castle, along with Faykan and the small contingent of Rohirric cavalry. They had only a few precious moments while the Dementors were retreating again to counterattack. If they could keep the breach in the wall as long as possible, more children could be evacuated from the castle.

As the last of the goblins leapt into the next row of trenches, Faykan drew _Glamdring_ , signaling for their cavalry to charge. _Hadhafang_ flashed in moonlight as Harry's mount thundered alongside his closest friend. The leapt over the trench, landing heavily among the orcs and their Death Eater allies, scattering those in the front as the Rohirrim followed behind.

After they passed, the goblins rose up out of the trenches again, wielding long spears and bows, pressing in on the stragglers from the charge, pushing the advancing forces back toward the wall. Harry's arms burned from the exertion with sword and staff, but he fought on desperately, knowing that they had to draw out Voldemort himself by whittling down his forces as much as possible.

Spells and arrows rained down from the castle, blocking off another oncoming wave of orcs from outside the walls, but the streams of orcs just kept coming, like the unending waves of the sea. It was clear that Voldemort had mustered his full strength for this attack, and they were facing overwhelming odds. Mad Eye was right, they were insane to fight here, but somehow the thought made Harry smirk instead of despair. Let the madman come, they were willing to fight to the very end against him.

The cavalry swept in a long arc around the remaining forces within the walls, cutting off their escape to the rest of their army, and allowing the goblins to mop them up in a pincer movement between the wall and the castle. The goblins them retook their forward trenches and Harry, Faykan and the Rohirrim horsemen withdrew closer to the castle, safely away from the arrows and spells of the besieging army.

If Voldemort thought he was going to easily take the lawns with a simply infantry rush, he was sorely mistaken. The horses pawed the ground impatiently, eager to run once again. With luck it would be a short while before they needed to repeat the same strategy, but Harry doubted they'd get the chance. Voldemort was smart enough to not fall for the same trick twice.

Moments later Harry was proven correct when the ground started to rumble. Large boulders were being thrown through the air by massive trolls and giants, crashing into the stone walls surrounding the grounds, widening the gap through which Voldemort's army could funnel through.

Through these poured easily five times the number of orcs they previously fought, along with several massive armored trolls wielding great clubs and axes. There were far too many for a standard cavalry charge to push back this time, they needed further reinforcements to hold the front.

Harry reacted instantly as the goblins began to be pushed back once again by the waves of orcs and trolls, slamming the base of his staff on the ground at his horse's feet with an echoing crack, sending a signal.

Even as the goblins once more fell back to the rear trenches, the ground that the enemy forces passed over started to quake anew. Deep chasms broke open on either side of the orc battalions, revealing hundreds of heavily armored and angry Dwarves.

" _Baruk Khazâd_! _Khazâd ai-mênu_!" King Thráin shouted as he led the charge of his people, instantly flanking the newest wave of orcish and troll warriors. Flaming axes were hurled with great force, splitting armor and piercing even the hardened hides of the trolls. The goblins quickly turned about once again, catching the force between three fronts of battle.

The trolls swung wildly, confused over which direction their out to proceed to fight and they were quickly taken down by the powerful weapons of the Sons of Durin. With the trolls removed, Faykan and Harry led another charge of the Rohirrim to clean up the infantry once again.

Voldemort was clearly expecting their counter in some fashion as this, as the moment that Harry and Faykan surged forward, there was a massive blast of magic from the direction of the shrieking shack. New waves of forces were coming, and from the shambling outlines in the darkened ground outside the demolished wall, Harry correctly guessed that they were the Dark Lord's army of inferi.

The army of the dead spilled through the holes in their walls, clawing and biting at anything that moved, friend or foe, and the forces of Light had to bid a hasty retreat to be able to reform a defensive perimeter to catch the rushing horde upon. Behind the inferi, dark wizards were coming slowly, casting their dark spells on the casualties of the previous engagements, reinforcing their hordes with fresh corpses.

Such desecration of the dead was violently offensive to Harry, and he felt a burning white desire to charge out, alone if need be, and slaughter the recently reanimated dead and their necromancer masters with the power of the Valar, but one look at Faykan told him that would be most unwise, even though his fellow Istari clearly felt the same way.

Doing what he could however, Harry lifted his staff, allowing the grace and power of the Valar to flow through him like a river of light, erupting from the emerald jeweled staff like a beacon. At his side, Faykan was performing the same level of powerful Light magic, cutting great swaths through the ranks of the dead, but regardless there were simply too many, and like a putrid tide they washed over the defender's position, biting and clawing.

Many fell to the diseased bodies, and far more fled back toward the castle in a full retreat. Harry fought on, struggling to keep moral with the nearby warriors up, lashing out with sword and magic alike to cut down foe after foe.

Nearby, Faykan's knot of soldiers wasn't faring as well. Dozens had been cut down, and Faykan himself was sporting wounds from the claw-like hands of the dead, when the Blue Istari sharply cracked his staff upon the rocky soil, causing a shockwave in all directions, which faltered the inferi long enough for him to give out a bellowing groan, which echoed throughout the grounds.

Up the slight rise from their position, the Whomping Willow instant started going berserk, arms flailing wildly, trunk trashing from side to side as it desperately trying to strike at anything nearby. Then, with a massive groan, the entire tree lifted itself from the roots, almost like many small, many toed legs, and waded into the melee, whip-like limbs sending all around it flying through the air with the force of its blows.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

The Dark Lord smirked as his forces surged in behind the legion of the dead. The necromancer, Abdurahman, was well adept at his work. The undead animated from the battle, while currently being cut down in droves by the ever weakening defenders, were easily being replaced as the necromancers advanced behind their undead minions. Even the pesky tree that had joined the fray was of little consequence, and the Lord of the Earth spotted Abdurahman himself conjure evil fire upon the annoyance, making the tree bellow and groan in agony as it burned.

But what even the Dark Lord Sauron didn't expect to happen was for a second bellowing groan to roar out from the forest, precluding a house sized boulder flying out from amid the trees, abruptly crushing the necromancer and his entourage of fellow sorcerers.

"Rise up, defenders of the forest! Smite the defilers of the land, brurahoom!" roared a deep, groaning voice from the tree's edge. The Dark Lord attempted to locate the source of the sound, recognizing another of his ancient enemies, when the underbrush of the forest exploded with all sorts of creatures, horse-men, unicorns and the like, while the sky above the forest became dark with many winged shapes. The very natural world rose up against him.

So be it then, Sauron decided, if the very planet would fight him to the end, then he, like Melkor the Morgoth before him, would simply obliterate this Middle Earth from existence, and laugh as the Valar failed in their missions they were given from before the beginning.

Under the arms of this newly arrived force, and without the Necromancers to replenish their ranks, the dead were swept away quickly, and the forces of the Light rejoiced once again in their small victory, charging the tide of orcs once again in a desperate attempt to keep their footing on the grounds of the castle.

But he, the Lord of the Earth, would not allow them to mock his power any longer. With naught but a nod to both his lieutenants, he himself stepped from the vantage point and made his way to the front. The next charge was to be led personally, and it would not fail.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Draco cheered from his point just inside entrance hall as the massive Ent known as Quickbeam led their next surprise assault from the forest, crushing the inferi and their handlers, and sending the forces of darkness into disarray once again.

If they kept this up, they could whittle Voldemort's forces away and force the man to give up the day to them, or come out to battle himself and hopefully slay the madman once and for all.

Exiting the castle with a fresh batch of reinforcements, both of Rohan, Dwarven and goblin races, Draco immediately made his way to Harry and Faykan, who were steadily watching the next wave of evil rushing the walls. "He is here…" Harry said suddenly, when a massive blast from the oncoming tide shook the ground upon which they stood.

The sword of Elendil flashed brightly from Draco's scabbard, flames alight as he watched the great orcs running at their lines. And then he spotted him. Voldemort, clad in black metal armor and wielding both wand and a great heavy mace, leading the attack himself.

It was insanity, to think that this could all be over so soon. Draco braced himself as the warriors all around readied to receive the assault. What they weren't prepared for was the Dark Lord to deal the first blow, swinging the mace high, and Fiendfyre erupting from the massive spiked end, launching forward to decimate an entire side of their ranks, as well as cutting off one avenue of escape.

The flames also prevented Quickbeam from coming to their aid, as the massive Ent was still attempting to tend to the fallen Whomping Willow, bellowing curses in many languages at the Dark Lord for his blatant disregard of nature.

"Elendil!" Draco roared, surging forward with the rest of their warriors, meeting the charge head on. _Andúril_ shone in the darkness, cutting a flaming path through each orc that stood in his way, and Draco know that beside him, the elven blades of the pair of Istari were being as devastating to the orcish regiment.

And then the Dark Lord himself was upon them. The mace swung, scattering entire platoons and knocking them into the air with the magically amplified force of the blows. The aura of fear was so strong, and many fell back from the man, whose eyes shone red in the darkness.

There was nothing for it, with soldiers falling for fleeing on all sides, Draco yelled for a retreat, and they ran, some still maintaining their seats on horseback, back to the castle gates, with their foes on their heels. As soon as they cleared the flames of the Fiendfyre, Quickbeam appeared, bellowing his rage as he crushed entire knots of orcs under his massive roots.

Draco continued to run, there was no option to turn and fight, as it seemed every orc and other dark creature belonging to Voldemort had taken to the field after their Lord. Werewolves scampered across the lawns, leaping at those who got separated from the massive contingent of the Light, their howling mixing in with the night. Vampires and Dementors sailed overhead, delighting in the pain and fear of their victims.

Another gout of flames blossomed behind them, and Draco turned in time to hear the painful roar, and see that even Quickbeam had been set alight. The cursed fire, created to clear large paths through forests, was more than a match for the magic of the lingering tree herder, and although he continued to fight for several moments, the mighty Ent soon fell with a crash.

"NO!" Faykan yelled, stopping and turning to face the hordes that followed them. Harry looked as though he would stop as well, but Draco grabbed his arm, knowing that Faykan was not foolish enough to allow himself to die again. Bellowing in elvish, Faykan conjured an orb of pure energy at the top of his staff, aiming it down the center row of their enemies, and firing. The orb plunged through ranks of orcs, annihilating everyone that it encountered, before exploding deep in their midst, sending many a dark creature flying through the air.

Quick as a flash, Faykan was with them again, and they sprinted for the castle door, which was slammed shut as they passed by a mixture of warriors from all the Light's allies.

Both Harry and Faykan swung their staffs at the closed door, casting powerful enchantments to keep the doors sealed from outside influences, and strengthening it to resist any attempt at battery. They were safe for the moment, but how many had they lost in delaying this long?

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Hermione cried out as spells erupted from the recently lost grounds, flying all over the castle walls and towers, blasting holes in the stone and knocking many of the students, teachers and other wizards flying backward.

The cracks of apparation were heard and suddenly combat exploded all around them, spells and curses flying in every direction. The Death Eaters were trying to take the battlements and work inside the castle. Hefting her elven bow, Hermione took careful aim, and sent an arrow flying directly into the hood of a newly arrived Death Eater.

The man fell, gurgling, but Hermione had no time to ponder the effects of taking a life, as several more were already upon her and the other group of wizards with her on the forward battlements. "For Hogwarts!" she yelled, rallying her nearest allies, who yelled in return, charging at the Death Eaters. A large pair of sixth and seventh years drew their swords, barreling straight at the largest knot of dark wizards, and Hermione sprayed several arrows over their heads to distract and confuse the adversaries so they wouldn't blast the pair of boys into oblivion.

Wizards on the whole were woefully unaccustomed to melee combat, and the metal swords that were conjured by Hogwarts itself proved to be most effective in bashing, cutting and stabbing through the unarmored dark wizards.

A pair of animated statues flew out of an upper tower, and Hermione looked up to see the students there backed into a corner, while more Death Eaters whooped at their victory. The flash of green tore at her soul as she saw young children crumple to the floor of the tower.

Forcing herself to fight on, and resist despair, Hermione concentrated, digging deeply into the small well of formless magic that she could access. The bow grew hot in her hands, and when she looked, a powerful arrow of white hot flames was fashioned there. Taking aim at the tower, she let the arrow of her vengeance fly.

The fire slammed into the inside of the tower, exploding outward in a cascade of white hot flames, and the screams of the Death Eaters pierced the night as their fled, burning and flailing as they attempted to extinguish themselves.

A roar from below tore Hermione's eyes back to the grounds, where her heart skipped a beat. The orcs and other ground forces had not been idle while the wizards had struck from above. Ladders, hundreds of them along with other mechanical devices, were being hauled up from some other location, and the orcs were charging the castle walls itself. While the ladders weren't nearby high enough to reach Hermione and those on the battlements, they would certainly lead to the first and second floor windows, allowing the vile creatures to spill into the middle of the castle, cutting off both grounds of defenders from each other.

"Come on!" Hermione cried to those around her, pointing her bow and taking aim at the lead orcs and their ladder. Unleashing a bolt of terrible lightning, she watched as it slammed with a massive thunderclap directly upon the ladder, sending a shockwave that knocked all the orcs holding it to the ground. The others, seeing the danger that those ladders possessed, started raining down spells on the orc hordes, while statues and those with melee weapons kept out a sharp eye for more Death Eaters attempting to stop them from delaying the ladder carriers from reaching the walls.

Not that they could do much about those still on the ground, bombarding the walls with their curses. Hermione thought she heard the familiar cackle of Bellatrix LeStrange as a curse sailed past her ear, singing her hair as it passed, but she paid the spell little mind as she fired arrow after arrow at the orcs, trying to stop or kill as many as she could.

When at last she went to draw and found no more arrows in her quiver, she knew that it was time for them to withdraw into the castle. Several more had been hit by spells from the grounds, and the orcs just kept coming, taking up the ladders where others had dropped them.

Firing a signal spell into the sky, Hermione called for retreat, and all around, those that had held off Death Eaters from their crenulations and towers fled within the relative safety of the castle, where she hoped they may cut off the orcs imminent arrival on the first and second floors.

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Bellatrix laughed as she spotted the bushy haired Mudblood friend of Potter, fleeing into the castle with the rest of her soldiers. The orcs were relentlessly charging at the castle, sticking the long ladder ends into the wet ground and heaving them upward, smashing windows and balconies where they landed, before dozens of creatures at a time would start hauling themselves up, eager to enter the castle and butcher the inhabitants.

Meanwhile, another group was bashing the front gates with a large ram, struggling to break down the oaken door, but failing due to its infusion of magic. But it served the purpose of a distraction for the time being, keeping the defenders cowering inside no doubt as they waited for their doom to be decided.

How she would have liked to be part of the vanguard, Bellatrix mourned, but her lack of a wand arm made it less than ideal for her to face off against anyone, and she served how she could, acting as a commander to lead the Death Eaters and other humans in the Dark Lord's army.

The man was watching the scene before them with a muted, almost thoughtful expression, obviously calculating the best route of attack to take the castle with as little cost. It then surprised Bellatrix when he turned once again to the Lord of Azkaban. "You know what to do…" he said, and the Wraith King shrieked again, storming away to reacquire his steed, even as the Dementors took to the air, wheeling and circling over the castle.

The Lord, once fixed in the saddle once again, spurred directly to the gates, where the orcs were starting to get frustrated with the gates that would not budge an inch under their attacks.

Once arrived, the Lord of Azkaban started to chant, high and cold in his eerie dark language, waving his sword high, and the ram started to glow a dark purple, nearly black. The orc struggled to wield it for a moment, before the whole item dropped from their arms. With nary a word, the Wraith King called forth several trolls, who each looked large enough to lift the small beam alone, but it still took three of the massive creatures to adequately lift the battering ram and continue where the orcs left off.

The wooden door, and its enchantments, started to shudder with greater fervor than previous, and Bellatrix grinned, eager to reenter the castle as a conquering victor at last.

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Harry watched with muted horror as the Lord of the Nazgûl cast his dark magic over the orcish battering ram, enchanting it to break other magic, when resumed the beating down of the Hogwart's front doors. With every strike the wards and spells sealing the dark forces out cracked ever so slightly, slowly yielding to the relentless strikes.

Returning down to the Great Hall, which had been hastily transformed into a battle side hospital, he joined Faykan and the others as they discussed what they were going to do next. Or more accurately, he joined Draco, Hermione and Ron in trying to figure out what to do next, as Faykan was preoccupied with Severus. Sometime during the battle, Death Eaters had attempted to enter the castle through Ravenclaw tower, while some students were still inside, and the Headmaster had charged to their rescue with a force of teachers and students behind him, being grievously injured in the process of repelling the invaders.

Whether the man would live or not, Harry did not know, but the tension was heavy in the air as they watched Faykan gingerly trying to heal Severus. Chanting in English as well as Elvish, Faykan was closing wounds as fast as he could, before suddenly Severus jerked painfully, coughing and sputtering blood from the mouth. From the Headmaster's lips, a voice emerged, but it wasn't the one that belonged to the body before them.

"You have betrayed me, Severus Snape…" the voice said, and at first Harry thought it was Voldemort's, but something about it was badly off. It was the same sound, but the inflexion, the rhythm of the speech was completely different, only a subtle thing, but clear to him.

"See now the price of your foolishness, and a warning to your friends, that a similar fate awaits all those who resist me and my power!"

Severus jerked again, and blood spurted from his left arm, where the Dark Mark resided. The flesh there had split wide open, and although Faykan immediately went to try and seal the wound with magic, nothing he could do would stop the bleeding.

"Fay…" Severus said weakly, even as he bled out. Harry froze, amazed at the man's sense of control, even as he lay dying. "Fay… do not waste your energy trying to save me…" Severus muttered deliriously, his eyes closed to save as much energy as possible.

"No," Faykan said, his voice shaking, "I can't lose anyone else, it's too much Sev!"

"Death is a… natural part of life, Fay…" Severus continued, his voice growing weak as blood pooled on the stones below him. The dying man smiled once, before asking for Harry of all people. Confused, Harry approached touching Severus on the arm to indicate that he was present.

Severus opened his eyes, black pools that had once long ago held nothing but cold hatred for him or Faykan, but now were filled with warmth so deep that Harry could scarcely tell that he was the same man as before.

"You have your mother's eyes…" was all Severus managed to say, before his breathing slowed, his eyes shut, and he was gone.

Everything was dreadfully silent for a long while, aside from the relentless pounding of the battering rams outside. Harry wanted to say something, but it felt inappropriate to even think of it. Faykan looked completely crushed, crouched by the body of one of his close friends, and Harry remembered implicitly when he thought that Fay himself was dead, and the same emotions that had run through him were playing in rapid succession across the Istari's face.

From across the room, Ceolwulf approached the group, adjusting his armor after being treated for a wound on his torso, "Lord Alatar, you must be strong, for all those who are still fighting the good fight."

"Where is the horse and the rider?" Faykan replied mournfully, "Where is the horn that was blowing?"

And, knowing that the Lord of the Mark had heard of this expression before, Harry allowed him to reply, "They have passed like rain on the mountain, like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the West, behind the hills into shadow."

"How did it come to this?" Faykan finished, his head bowed and still very sorrowful.

Harry, recognizing a situation very similar to this from his own past, repeated the same words that the aged wizard before him once said in advice. "So say all who live to see such times, but it is not for them to decide… all we have to decide is what to do with the time that we are given…"

Faykan managed a weak chuckle, "using my own words on me are we, Harry?" he said. Nevertheless, he stood at last, sparing a final sorrowful glance at Severus' body, before steeling himself to the world around him. "It's time we end this, and put that monster down for good." Faykan said, magic coiling around him in his suppressed wrath.

"What ought we to do about the little committee attempting to welcome themselves onto our front door then?" Harry asked, smirking weakly. There was little joy or humor to be had at the moment, and the Weasley twins were preoccupied with sealing the many secret passages out of the castle to take up the job, so he made do with what he had to work with.

Turning his back on the makeshift infirmary, Faykan took a deep breath, "Firstly, let's see whose knocking…" he said as he started for the first floor, and the same windows that Harry had first spied the group attempting to break into the castle.

When they arrived, and Faykan had had his look, the turned back to the rest of them, "Well, that's a rather grim sight," he stated flatly, "but we do have a few things on our side, and I know what we need to do."

Turning to Hermione, Faykan issued orders to gather the centaur herd that had congregated in the largest ground floor classroom, and for Harry and Ron to summon the Order of the Phoenix, and every able bodied wand wielder they could. They sprinted through the castle in their haste to obey, calling for everyone who would stand and fight to gather in the entrance hall prepared for battle.

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Draco shifted nervously in the entrance hall as the pounding at the front doors grew steadily louder. Nearby, the herd of centaur shifted, their armor clanking as they awaited instructions from Faykan or Harry.

A pair of the larger unicorn stallions had joined the fight as well, humbly offering themselves as mounts to the two Istari, while Ceolwulf had supplied spare horses for Draco, Ron and Hermione, as well as those others among their group that could ride. It was a desperate gambit, what they were attempting, but there was a time and a place for such things, right?

"It seems that this may yet be our end…" Ceolwulf said to Draco, glancing at Faykan. Harry bristled at first at the man's words, but the King of Rohan pressed on, "but if it is to be so, then I would have it be this way; on the field of battle, and not merely caught as an old badger in a trap. When the doors break, I and my warriors will charge forth to find whatever evil awaits us. Will you ride with me at the front, heir of _Telcontar_?"

Draco was uncertain. On the one hand, it sounded risky and downright suicidal, but at the same time there was an almost unsettlingly desirable ring to it; going down in the heat of battle with the bodies of foe surrounding you on all sides.

"A death worthy of songs or tales…" Draco mused to himself.

"If there be any who live hereafter to write of such things…" the older king acquiesced. Draco was about to respond, when the door splintered with another shuddering crash, and the wards collapsed around them, leaving the only barrier of wood and metal preventing the evil forces entry.

Everything seemed to slow down in Draco's vision, like he would memorize every detail of the castle as it was before all chaos broke loose: the stamping of hooves on the stones, the stretch of bowstrings and the smell of nervous sweat. Everyone around him even seemed to freeze, from Faykan's stern watching of the door, to Mad-Eye Moody's whirling eye in its socket. Draco could even hear his own heartbeat within his chest, counting down the seconds until the doors were broken open.

Then the moment passed, and with a tremendous crash the doors were split asunder. And as the dust settled a single figure started to make its way in, precluded by an aura of intense fear. "Do not give in to fear!" Faykan commanded, and Draco felt warmth surge through him at the Istari's words, even as the powerful wizard rode forward to meet the Nazgûl Lord.

"You shall not enter here!" Faykan commanded, "Return to the Abyss prepared for you… Go back; fall to the nothingness that awaits you and your master, go!"

The Wraith Lord did not bother with a reply, merely raising its sword high, flames leaping from the blade even as massive shapes started to lumber through the settling dust.

"Volleys, fire!" Harry yelled, and the crisp snap of bowstrings and shouts of spells nearly drowned out the clang of swords between Faykan and the Nazgûl Lord as the pair cantered in a circle, trying to outflank the mount of the other. That was until Harry launched into the melee, Hadhafang catching and throwing the Witch King's blade, just as Harry pulled forth the Phial of Galadriel.

" _Aiya, Eärendil Elenion Ancalima_!" he yelled, and the resultant blast of pure white energy sent the Black Rider fleeing, shrieking, into the night.

"Now is the hour!" Ceolwulf shouted to the assembled cavalry, "Riders of Rohan, remember the oaths you have taken! Now fulfill them all to Lord and land. Forth, Érolingas!"

The combined force surged forward, catching the heavily wounded battle trolls off guard, and cutting them down within moments before spilling past through the doors of Hogwarts.

The grounds were completely infested with dark creatures and evil wizards, but for once, Draco did not care for his own safety. They had to make their stand here, in life or in death, to show the world that Britain would not submit to Voldemort's evil without fighting to the death first.


	17. Chapter 16

**The climax is upon us at last, my friends and readers. After over five years, my first story arc is nearing completion. It is truly a momentous time. The final checkmate is about to unfold, so let us bask and watch as the fireworks unleash the grand finale. Enjoy, and please leave reviews and comments as you may.**

 **Chapter Sixteen**

 **A Light from the Shadows Shall Spring**

Hermione surged forth astride her gifted mount along with the rest of the Rohirrim and Centaur forces, while their ranged and infantry forces followed in the cavalry's wake. The sword men at the front of the charge, along with Faykan, Draco, Ron, Harry and the leaders of both Rohan and the Centaur herd were desperately cutting a swath through the enemy, creating a path for them all to follow, and pushing as far into the center of the orcish ranks as they could.

But for a time, it seemed a hopeless maneuver, there were simply too many to count. They were surrounded on all sides. This last gambit was a dire attempt to push to Voldemort and cut the head from the snake. But even still, they lost momentum far too quickly, and were soon pressed on all sides, in the middle of the grounds.

That was when Draco raised the Horn of Gondor. The sound blared over the tumult of cries from orcs and all other creatures on the battlefield, and in response a massive wailing was heard. From the far side of Voldemort's ranks, an absolutely massive creature was plodding forward. Its gray hide was covered in a harness riddled with soldiers crying shouts of battle and blood, and from the creature's face protruded four massive tusks. A Mûmakil, Hermione recognized. This meant only one singular thing.

The warriors of Harad had arrived. Upon hearing the sound of the horn, the Oliphaunt bellowed again, and the lead rider, who controlled the beast by reins through its massive ears, shot a powerful blast of magic into the air, which formed into the symbol of the D.A.

Madam Zabini and Blaise had come with reinforcements. The massive beast plowed headlong into the rear ranks of orcish warriors, swinging its head and stomping its massive feet to cause as much damage as possible as it went, while horse archers swarmed around it, sniping at everything that tried to flee from the rampaging Oliphaunt.

At the same moment, the dwarves and goblins reappeared from the tunnels and trenches that they had previously used, having dug tunnels out of the dungeons to them, popping literally up in the middle of various ranks of orcs, and giving battle to distract them from the main push of the humans and centaur.

And yet again, from the forest a fresh wave of soldiers, the Beornings, appeared, leaping from the trees and shape shifting into great bears to land heavily amid the orcs on that side, ripping and tearing with great anger into their hated enemies. Oh how the tide had turned back toward their favor once more.

Hermione felt a surge of hope, and from the shouts of the warriors around her, she could tell that moral had been bolstered by the appearance of so many allies once again. Battle was joined earnestly, and the forces of Light started to slowly gain ground, pushing with all their might toward the hill between Hogwarts and Hogsmead, where they knew Voldemort had retreated to and was now watching the battle near the Shrieking Shack.

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Bellatrix remained silent as she watched the Light's most recent, and greatly foolish, attempt to fight back against the Dark Lord. Even with the added help of the traitors that Zabini's many clan warriors turned out to be, as well as the arrival of all their remaining allies at one time, there was still a massive wall of orcs alone between the Istari and the Dark Lord, among everything else that they had yet to fight through.

Even as the horsemen plowed through rank after rank of the fodder orcs, growing ever closer to the demolished walls that separated the grounds of the school from the outer countryside, the Dark Lord sent a small signal with his hand, and the ground started to rumble as the dozen giants they had recruited started wading forward, swinging their clubs like windmills.

"Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said, and the witch turned, eager for the command to go into battle. "Lead my forces while I take to the field…" the man commanded, summoning a pair of orcs who were carrying black battle armor and a massive war mace, "I have… personal… vendettas to take care of."

Bellatrix cackled, knowing to whom her Lord referred. "As you command, my Lord." She said, watching him stalk toward the ever increasing melee, armor and weapons gleaming in the light of the setting moon. The night was almost over, and they would lose the advantage of the darkness soon if they didn't finish it here.

Turning to the Wraith Lord, Bellatrix smirked, knowing that her authority now rivaled the other creature's. "I want your servants to descend on the battle, devour our enemies, use whatever means necessary."

The armored Specter turned its helmeted toward her for a moment, silently scrutinizing her with whatever magic allowed it to see. A moment of pure silence where they sized each other up, and then without a sound the metal clad figure stalked away.

At first, Bellatrix thought that the figure may have just ignored her completely, but moments later the sky darkened again as for the third time, hundreds of the foul, soul-sucking wraiths swooped low over the battlefield, free from any constraint that the Dark Lord had previously put on them, and Bellatrix smiled as she turned to the next group of warriors.

"Fenrir…" she purred, beckoning the werewolf forward. "I want your packs to circle the edge of the forest, they have skin changers there, and I want you to counter them."

Greyback snarled, "With pleasure…" throwing back his head, Fenrir howled, and though the moon wasn't full this evening, almost thirty of the infected lycanthropes charged around the edge of the tide of orcs to thwart the forest side of the battle.

"Lucius," Bellatrix called finally, and her brother-in-law stepped forward, "bombard the castle with spells; if anyone is still within I want them flushed out to be slaughtered…"

The man seemed to hesitate, but when Bellatrix glared at him, he nodded, before gesturing to the other inner circle Death Eaters and they set off to a better spot to aim at the castle. Turning back to the battle before her, Bellatrix scanned for the Dark Lord, wondering how the forces of the Light would deal with this turn of events.

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Harry wasn't terribly sure where he found the strength to keep lifting sword and staff to fight, as the endless tide of orcs and other creatures streamed at their lines nonstop, and he was in constant movement, either dodging, or parrying or attacking. There was hardly even time for him to cast any spells to create space for a breather.

And then, suddenly, the orcs thinned dramatically, creating a massive space before the riders of Rohan, before parting to reveal a new threat. Voldemort stood there, clad in black armor, wand in one hand and a giant war mace in the other.

"Harry Potter…" the man said slowly, advancing toward them on foot, "It is time that this little rebellion be ended, you and your vaunted Istari companion can do nothing to stop my growing powers now."

Harry heard the voice, saw the face, but something just screamed to him that the man before him was not Voldemort. Something fundamental about the person before him simply did not give off the same feel as the same enemy that Harry had fought for six years now.

"Who are you?" he asked boldly, shocking most of those around him, but the being wearing Voldemort's skin just laughed.

"Very good Potter, yes, you are correct to realize that Voldemort is not the man, and he only ever was merely a man, who stands before you now. There is only one Dark Lord of the Earth, and I will not share power with another. Ever since I encountered your small pretender, I have waited and watched his blundering attempts to destroy you, thinking he was the one so prophesized to put you down, what a fool he was. A self important, over inflated _man_ with some magical talent does not compare itself to a god upon the earth, but I am more than even that."

Magic swelled around the figure, and Harry readied his weapons.

" _Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul_ _,_ " chanted the stranger; the Black Speech was rolling off his tongue as though he had created the language. And that was when Harry saw it, and realized that it did so because this being had indeed created that vile tongue.

"Sauron," Faykan said slowly, raising his own staff defensively as he too came to the same conclusion.

All around them, their fellow warriors of the Light fell away at the pronunciations of the Black Speech, leaving the pair of Istari alone to face the Lord of Mordor reincarnated in the body of Tom Riddle. "Yes…" the Dark Lord affirmed, smirking all too widely as he spoke, "your pathetic Voldemort had little mind for controlling such a vast world, and once the time was right I stepped forward and took direct control. Now tremble, pathetic mortals, and fall into despair, for I, the Great Dark Lord of the East, have returned!"

"There is nothing left of you to fear," Faykan countered, his own magic flaring in response to the surge of darkness from Sauron. "You power was broken long ago, and now all that remains is a shadow of that terror. In the name of the Valar I command you to turn back now, depart these lands and never return!"

With a roar of rage, the Dark Lord in Voldemort's body charged, swinging the great mace high, seeking to crush Faykan beneath it. Dodging to the left, Harry missed being caught in the attack, even as Faykan threw himself right, and the two Istari resigned themselves to direct battle with the Dark Lord Sauron.

Harry had thought that the ancient being that had sought command over all of _Arda_ would be less than accustomed to wand-based magic, but clearly he had learned from passively observing Voldemort. Curses and hexes of the blackest variety flew of the Yew and Phoenix Feather wand, burning the very air as they flew at Harry and Faykan, who were forced quickly to conjure shields of light to protect themselves and the warriors around them from any wild reflections.

' _We need to get him away from the rest of the battle_ ,' Faykan said telepathically, to which Harry agreed, but the question was how. It wasn't like they could just politely ask Sauron to move their personal battle to a place elsewhere. They'd have to force the Dark Lord to want their battle more private.

As one, _Glamdring_ and _Hadhafang_ flashed from their scabbards, and together the Blue and Green Istari charged at their fated foe. Sauron laughed, swinging the massive battle mace as they approached, eager to crush one or both of them under its weight, but the smaller and more nimble teenagers were able to dodge around the clumsy and wide strikes, using spells and swords to batter the Dark Lords armor and shields while taking minimal damage themselves.

All around them, as though inspired by their leader's direct attack on the Dark Lord, the armies rallied, surging forward to smash on the ranks of orcs once more, pushing their way again toward the gates of the Hogwart's grounds.

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Draco knew from the moment that Voldemort appeared, or was it Sauron now, that both Faykan and Harry would be held up and rendered unable to lead their forces to victory. So, naturally, that left the responsibility to Draco himself, along with the other faction leaders. Doing what he felt was best, Draco gave the shout of Elendil and with _Andúril_ flashing brightly, and he led the cavalry of Rohan and Centaurs of Hogwarts around the duel of the three most powerful beings on the field, and pursued the orcish host, continuing to drive them from the grounds.

Without the strong will of their leaders, the orc ranks, even with their many allies, would be significantly weakened as well. Or so he thought, before a cry rose up from their forces in several places at once. From the direction of the forest, creatures were falling upon the Beornings, werewolves in their untransformed, yet still powerful, forms, biting and scratching a the giant bear-men.

At the same time, screams came from the direction of the castle, as a barrage of spells assaulted the castle walls, blasting stone apart and shaking the building to its very foundations. People were fleeing the castle in all safe directions, just to prevent from being crushed if the entire structure came down.

Worst of all, from the sky a sudden shrieking sounded, and the host of Dementors appeared once more, descending like a black cloud on the battle, but instead of merely using the auras of fear to try and disrupt the forces of Light, they were attacking individuals, dragging them from foot and horseback into the air and performing the kiss with impunity.

Calculating quickly, Draco shouted for the others, "Ron," he yelled, pointing to the forest, "take a part and assist the Beornings, the Werewolves must be driven back. Hermione, take another third and beat back those attacking the castle, it must stand. Go forth, and fear no darkness from above!" he shouted, before turning to his own warriors, "I know I have no right or position to command you to do anything, but for what it's worth, we must win this battle, for the future of our world. Rise up defenders of the Light, and push back the foul darkness that threatens to extinguish all hope!"

Whirling his steed, Draco aimed his wand to the heavens, " _Expecto Patronum_!" he cried, and the shout was echoed from many voices. The small songbird of _Númenor_ led the charge of the silver animals as they flew at the multitude of sky bound Dementors, scattering but not fully driving the vile creatures away.

Yet, even through these dread wraiths, Draco turned his sights toward the Shrieking Shack, and the current active leader directing the Dark forces army. Draco could only presume that this meant confronting his Aunt Bellatrix once last time.

Draco was really growing tired of how easily his family was swayed by dark powers, and he used this righteous anger to drive him forward, cutting through orc, Dementor and whatever else blocked his straight path toward the hill that he just knew contained his insane Aunt. This would end, here and now.

The woman drew into sight, cackling as she watched his approach, and Draco let out a roar of challenge, "Bellatrix!"

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Sauron, Dark Lord of the Earth, laughed as the pathetic Istari danced around him, their weak elvish blades and spells glancing harmlessly off his Mordor-forged armor. Long had he waited to resume wearing the black iron that had been created and enchanted for him in the fires of Orodruin, by his own hand no less, and it was a familiar and comfortable weight that fitted this new form just as well as his old.

The only flaw he had found so far was the hindered reflexes, which prevented him from scoring a meaningful strike with the great black mace, made from the same metal no less, and crushing one of the pathetic Istari flat.

"Your strength is as nothing before my darkness," the Dark Lord taunted, allowing wizard magic, mixed with the dark power he knew and practiced of old, to be unleashed on the pair of fools that stood in his way.

In defense against his onslaught, the pair transformed into their bestial forms, and great fox and giant cat prowling around him, trying to find an opening to attack. But there was none to be found, because he was invincible, and Sauron deigned to their level of combat, sliding effortlessly into the powerful form he had assumed for himself, much like the original dragons that the Morgoth had formed in the early ages of the world.

The feeling of coiled sinew and armored scales was comfortable, and with a roar of pleasure and rage, Sauron threw himself at the pitifully tiny Istari, the massive draconic body thrashing, and flames flying from the cavernous maw. The sheer power was magnificent, and yet it was not enough to bring down the Istari, who once again used their diminutive forms to dodge around his attacks, even weaving in magic to protect their allies from collateral damage.

It was laughably frustrating, how the pair could not touch him, yet effortless prevented him from harming them or their friends as well; a perfect stalemate. This was not to be allowed to continue. With a roar, Sauron utilized an ancient magic, tearing open the fabric of space with great violence, causing the portal to start dragging in all nearby, including the two pathetic wizards.

Naturally, they resisted, but a powerful swipe from the heavily armored tail was sufficient to sweep the two in, and Sauron dove headlong into the portal after them, allowing it to seal behind them. The fires of the volcano in the distance was the only light here, in the land that were eternally his, where his power reigned supreme for ages on end.

Transforming back to his new human form, the Dark Lord reveled at the increase of his power from proximity to where his current ring, the last of its kind, was made.

Mordor…

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Hermione watched in horror as the massive dragon swept Harry and Faykan away, before disappearing and leaving them all alone in the midst of their great battle. But she couldn't dwell on that fact, she had her orders, and the Death Eaters were still battering away at the castle she had called home for six years, and she would see them stopped and driven back.

"Onward!" she yelled, drawing back the elven hair bowstring and loosing an arrow into the midst of the Dark wizards, disrupting their spell casting and striking one in the shoulder. They turned, frightened as the horsemen and centaurs thundered upon them. Only a few escaped by apparition, and Hermione counted the silvery-blond hair of Lucius Malfoy among them, while the rest were trampled and slain, or forced to retreat into the massive melee of orcs, goblins and dwarves.

Those that fled there would find little refuge from the bone knives and steel axes that awaited them, because the intense fighting had become to the point where the forces of evil had ceased to recognize friend from foe, and each was fighting for their own survival over any other goal.

Glancing quickly to the other side of the battlefield, Hermione spotted that Ron and his force were encountering difficulty driving the werewolves away, the greater agility of the part human predators easily outstripping even the swiftest centaur. Signaling to her men, Hermione lead the way to their aid, archers sending volleys of well placed arrows into the ranks ahead to clear the way. As they arrived, the front rows of lance wielding centaur plowed headlong into the first of the werewolves, battering them aside effortlessly while they were preoccupied with Ron's force.

Even as the tide began to turn, Hermione gasped as she spotted Fenrir Greyback lunging at Ron from behind. Without thinking, she loosed an arrow which only managed to graze the werewolf's shoulder, but spun him enough to allow Ron to dodge out of his path.

Bringing _Aeglos_ to bear, Ron buried the shimmering blue tip deep into the alpha's chest, causing the creature, more beast than man to howl in pain, and slump over, dead.

They had little time to celebrate their two front's victory, as the Horn of Gondor sounded bright and clear from the edge of Hogsmeade, and they were off again, clearing a wider path through the orcs to the gate.

But as they reached the middle of the melee, the sky darkened all the more, and a figure barred their way, clad in dark armor and riding a black steed. The Lord of the Nazgûl, with all his power of hatred and fear, raised his sword toward them in challenge. But Hermione had had enough of darkness and terror for one horrid night, and rode forward to accept the nightmare's challenge.

"You shall not hinder us!" she said confidently. Brandishing her bow, and conjuring an arrow out of her hopes of the future, she trained the brilliant silver beam on the dark wraith. "Or whether living or dark undead I will smite you where you stand!" she threatened.

"Thou fool…" chided the dread wraith mockingly, its voice hissing with high pitches shrieks as it spoke, "No mortal man can injure me…"

"Well, it's a good thing I'm a woman," Hermione retorted, releasing the bowstring. The silver beam of light rocketed forth, flashing through the air on a straight course to the helmeted figure. The flaming sword swung, burning the air as it intercepted Hermione's projectile, shattering the blade and wrenching the hilt from the gauntleted hand.

With a shriek of anger, the Witch-King leapt from his mount, raising his alternate weapon from the ground, and Hermione widened her eyes at the size of the flail's size. Quickly slipping from her own horse, she lined up another arrow on the advancing figure, trying to anticipate and avoid the swinging cannonball sized spiked weapon.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, but she was far too focused in dodging around the impossibly large weapon to pay attention. She had read the Red Book of Westmarch, and she knew the history and prophecy made regarding this, the greatest of the nine Nazgûl, regardless if the creature would regard it as such or merely a fluke. The thing was not invincible, not by a long shot, and it was foretold that no mortal man would be his downfall.

This had been fulfilled once by a woman before, so why not again? Rolling to the side to avoid the massive flail, Hermione launched several arrows, striking the Witch-King with resonating pings, but the mere metal could not pierce the vile enchanted armor. The flail head whirled again, and Hermione shrieked as the weapon caught her in the leg, sweeping her off her feet.

"No!" Ron shouted, overcoming the fear of the Witch-King and forcing his steed to charge the horrific creature, _Aeglos_ impaling the monster in the back like a lance. The Nazgûl reared back, shrieking, and Hermione had the perfect opening. Thinking hard of how much she loved the stupid, red headed fool who had just saved her life, Hermione loosed a Patronus arrow directly into the shadow of the Witch-king's helmet.

Light blossomed in the darkened hood of the Wrath Lord, and with an ear splitting shriek, the entire armor body started to implode upon itself, armor bending and twisting like it was wrung through two powerful hands, while the entire form jerked and shuddered in death throes.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the Lord of the Nazgûl perished at last, only her stifle a cry of pain as her leg flared up in utter agony. "Shhh, I've got you," said a familiar voice above her, and Hermione felt herself being lifted from the ground, warm and safe in familiar arms.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Bellatrix scowled as her combat initiatives were rebuffed by the forces of the Light, Lucius and his Death Eaters retreating to her position while the werewolves fled into the forest. Useless fools, the lot of them, they would be punished by the Master when the time came and they had won this battle, but for the moment there was too many other important people to kill.

Case and point being Bella darling little nephew, all dressed up and pretty as some prince on his shining horse. As the boy skidded to a halt only a few paces away, their eyes locked, pitch black meeting stormy grey, and a mutual realization was understood, one of the pair were not walking away from this encounter.

"Aunt Bellatrix…" the boy said flatly, almost disdainfully, as though he thought himself better than his family. Snarling in response, she fired a curse in retaliation. The horse reared as it was struck, throwing the boy as it perished.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bellatrix saw dear brother Lucius twitch as his son fell to the cold ground, before he recovered and raised his sword and wand in defensive postures. "I won't let you get away with that, dear Auntie…" Draco said scornfully, even as the half-breeds and muggles that comprised the boy's army thundered up the hill to engage the orcs and Death Eaters guarding Bellatrix's position.

The boy shot several spells at the Dark Lord's most faithful, which she shielded and deflected away effortlessly. Even so wounded she was more than a match for little Draco, "You'll have to try harder than that if you want to win dear little Drakie…" Bellatrix scolded sarcastically, hoping to taunt the brat into making a mistake. So long as that blasted sword was in his hand most of her spells would be useless, so it had to be the first to go.

So she began with an all out offensive, unleashing blasting and cutting hexes, intermixed with disarming charms and impediment jinxes for flavor. The sword flashed to blazing life, cutting and weaving through the air to deflect and block spell after spell.

But this was exactly what Bellatrix planned for, and she quickly worked the boy into a familiar routine of spells, before suddenly shifting, throwing a much higher, and significantly darker, level of curses and illusions at her nephew, snarling as the sword's brightness intensified, but it was to no avail in the end. A jet of the green Killing Curse blasted the sword straight out of the boy's hands, and a disarming charm sent the wand following close after.

Looming over her fallen nephew, Bellatrix smirked, "and now the Dark Lord will know his true servants, and his enemies. _Avada Keda…_ "

"No!" shouted Lucius, throwing himself at Bellatrix. Dodging out of the mad fool's way, Bellatrix danced back while keeping her wand trained on her traitorous family. "I knew that you were never as loyal to the Dark Lord as you professed…" she seethed, drawing magic around her in case the blond fool attempted to fight back. She was more than a match for him, and she could finish Draco off at her whim regardless of what his soldiers would do.

Lucius placed himself squarely between Bellatrix and Draco, arm out wide to try and shield the boy. "You will not take my son from me. The only thing that has ever mattered was family, and the Dark Lord has ripped that from my life time and again. No more!"

"As you wish, dear brother…" Bellatrix said, smirking sweetly, "then we shall simply have to, correct that matter…. _Avada Kedavera_!"

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry shakily got to his feet. The sound from the battle all around and the light of the moon above were gone now, lost behind a thick mist of dark clouds. The only feature on the barren wasteland for miles around was a single, volcanic peak, smoking still billowing from its top despite its most recent eruption.

The land of Mordor couldn't have looked bleaker in these circumstances, and Harry thought of little else than awaking Faykan so they could attempt to escape instead of fighting Sauron on his home turf. Speaking of the mad Maiar possessing a human body, the creature was stalking toward them as Harry wrenched Fay to his feet.

Even as the Blue Istari regained his footing he was already chanting out a spell, leveling his staff at the oncoming Dark Lord as elvish words poured from his lips. A massive orb of sea-blue energy formed at the tip of the staff. With a resultant explosion the orb tore across the short space, only to be deflected by the massive black mace, although it succeeded in disarming Sauron of the weapon.

"Pitiful…" the Dark Lord taunted, not halting his forward stride, and the darkened yew wand snapping into his hand. Harry reacted instantly, throwing up a powerful Light shield, which only shimmered for a split second before black lightning and other vile spells rained upon it, splitting the near silence with a cascade of miniature explosions.

The power of the dark land was still sapping their strength, weakening their spells and connection to the light while strengthening Sauron all the more. It was a bad situation and they needed to flee this place.

Almost in response to even the thought, Harry shivered as he felt wards preventing all means of long distance transportation fly up around them. Locking eyes with those that had once been Voldemort's, he knew that the evil being had planned this from the beginning, so certain in the strength of his forces to simply overwhelm Hogwarts without his presence needed, but what he failed to count for was the friends that Harry and Faykan had left, and their trust that they could easily rally the remaining defenders and turn the tide.

Which meant they were free to fight Sauron with impunity, and he them, but unless they had a way to even the field of combat, even together they didn't stand a chance at defeating the Dark Lord. Something burned on Harry's finger, just as his shield faded. Looking down even as several spells caught him in the arms and chest, Harry spied the tiny jeweled ring that he had received years ago. _Vilya_ glowed brightly in the shadow of Mordor, challenging the power of the cursed land with the pure light the radiated from Valinor. At his side, Harry spotted _Narya_ on Faykan's hand burning brightly as well.

"You pathetic Istari were all alike," Sauron said as he rained spells down on the pair of them, "sanctimonious fools that seek to run the world like a puppet on strings. At least I was always up front about my intentions, honest and bold faced regarding my attempts to take control of Middle Earth. But no, simply because the Valar chose to promote you to such high positions and not me; I could have been so much more!"

 _Vilya_ burned hotter still, and Harry, despite being heavily weakened from fighting for hours on end in addition to all suffered through being violently teleported and attacked just now, surged to his feet, jeweled emerald upon his golden staff ablaze. "You have none to blame but yourself for your fall!" he shot back, raising his staff high, and conjuring an orb of elemental energy. Swinging the staff in a full circle to add momentum, he threw it with all his might, watching the orb of what appeared to be concentrated air slam into Sauron's chest amour, sundering it utterly and throwing the Dark Lord back several steps.

"Why suffer horrific death," the Maiar wheezed, recovering from the surprise attack with equal swiftness, "when you could serve me, little Istari child. It wouldn't be the first one of your vaunted Order who bowed their stiff necks to one they recognized as greater than they…"

"By all the might of the Valar, we will fight you to the bitter end!" Harry shouted, even as Faykan threw up a powerful shield to protect them from the next barrage of attacks from the deceitful and power crazed Sauron.

Roaring with anger, Sauron slammed the ground with a hand, growling out the hideous language that ruled Mordor like an iron fist, and Harry staggered again as the very earth itself shook at the sound of the Dark Lord's voice.

A powerful curse ripped the staff from his hands, and from the cry nearby Harry could tell that Faykan was similarly disarmed. There simply was nothing they could do to stop Sauron here, his power was absolute.

"Then you will be the first to die, little green wizard…" the Dark Lord said, towering over Harry as he aimed Voldemort's wand between Harry's eyes. "Greet the Valar who worked so hard to protect you for me when I send you back to them, lesser than a ghost!"

But, even as Sauron opened his mouth to speak the curse, a cry sounded out of the west. A flash of flame followed, and suddenly Fawkes the Phoenix was in their midst. With a cry, the bird of flame and rebirth flew at Sauron, talons and beak straining at the man's face, while a burst of flames from the wings scorched the billowing black robes he wore.

Strength poured into Harry's system as his oft companion appeared, and _Vilya_ was starting to make his finger turn red from the heat. He knew what they had to do at last, and Fawkes was buying the time that they needed to pull it off. ' _Yes, we need to move quickly if we are to throw Sauron off his guard_ ,' Faykan agreed mentally, and together they launched into action, staffs flying from the ground back to their hands.

With a simultaneous burst of magic, the pair of Istari threw off the wards holding back means of travel to wizards, and then dashed to either side of Sauron as he swung desperately at Fawkes. Slamming his staff into the ground at Sauron's left, mirroring Faykan's on the Dark Lord's right, Harry chanted spells that were shared with him instantly via his link with the other Istari.

The gems burst into brilliant light as the pair of Istari copied Sauron's move to bring them here in the first place. The portal torn open wouldn't be taking them back to Hogwarts however, but a far different location. Once the tear was made, Faykan wandlessly conjured a powerful wind, further upsetting Sauron's footing as he fought with Fawkes. Harry followed it up by barreling into the man's body, knocking him clear from his feet to be pulled straight through the portal with a scream of rage.

"Are you ready to finish this?" Faykan asked, taking hold of his silver and sapphire staff and looking between Harry and the portal.

"It's past time that this prophecy was fulfilled…" Harry replied, taking his gold and emerald foci, and together they stepped through the portal as it closed.

They emerged, Fawkes swooping around them with a loud cry, to a dazzling seaside vantage, with the sun shining strongly overhead. The Westernmost part of the continent of _Arda_ , up the coast from the Gray Havens, was the location of the strongest outpouring of the Valar's influence.

Even as he stepped onto the sandy beach, Harry felt a surge of power quite unlike anything he felt before. Insight and prudence freshened his mind, and he knew what ought to be done to at last end this madness.

Sauron on the other hand, was looking quite out of place, and raging in his attempts to destroy them, lashing out with curses and dark power in the Black Speech, but quite like when they were in Mordor, his darkness seemed weakened by the presence of so much ambient Light magic.

"This ends here, Sauron…" Faykan said sternly, power from Valinor clearly influencing him as well, causing his robes to shine slightly as he walked.

"Never!" Sauron raged, pointing his wand at Faykan, "Die!" the resultant blast of magic was so dark that Harry felt a chill run down his spine. A blinding shield of light exploded into being around Faykan, and the collision of the two spells thundered in Harry's eardrums for seconds after.

Recovering quickly, Harry launched into action, unleashing a fuselage of light and fire based attacks, which were dodged or blocked by swirls of darkness conjured wordlessly from the yew wand, but Harry could see the strength of Sauron slipping. Donning a mortal form for the first time in millennia must not be exactly what he was ready for, regardless of whatever power he had to himself.

"You growing tired…" Faykan taunted aloud, but the Dark Lord merely snarled and attacked again, but the spells were growing steadily weaker as he cast. Even as the man snapped a large purple curse from his wand, Harry stepped forward, invoking the Light-given magic that had been building in his ring of power for some time this night, blasting the Maiar possessed mortal back several steps.

Grim determination setting into Harry mind, he attacked with a powerful blast of white light, countered by a similar bolt of darkness from the yew wand of Voldemort. The spells met in the middle, latching into each other and forming a golden orb between the two wizards.

"Priori Incantatem…" Faykan muttered from behind Harry, but all his focus was direction on the power play between himself and Sauron over control of that sphere.

"You will fail…" Sauron managed to say, over his grunting and straining at focusing more magic into his spell, "I will destroy you all here and now, and the world of men will fall soon afterward. At long last the time of the orc has come, and therein I will rule in power as the god I was meant to be!"

"You have no power here, Servant of Morgoth..." Harry said, pulling the Phial of Galadriel from his robes, adding its brilliance to his spell. The Dark Lord shrunk back somewhat, losing a great deal of momentum on his side of the spell, allowing the orb of light to slide further toward him.

Intensifying the light from the phial, Harry shouted over the whine and crackle of the magic, "You are nameless, faceless, and formless! Go back to the void from whence you came!"

The orb changed to a shimmering silver-white, and expanded to twice its size as it bore down on Sauron in Voldemort's body. With a shout of pain and fury, the being that comprised two powerful Dark Lords who threatened the same world connected with the powerful spell, and began to burn from within on contact. Within moments, there was nothing left but a pile of ashes, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over, the prophecy, the war, everything.


	18. Epilogue

**And the time has come at last. This story, the debut of my walking into the concept of fanfiction, and the discovery of my love of writing, is at last complete. Strangely, rather than a sense of excitement, there is one of peace, more contentment than I expected. perhaps its a different sensation for everyone, but I am still looking forward to what comes afterward. I will begin posting 'The Stormreaver,' in this biweekly slot that ANP once took, check out the story concept on my profile page, and please, leave your thoughts of this entire saga as a review.**

 **It has been a most epic adventure, and I am thankful for all those who held through to the end. Many thanks, ~Faykan**

 **Epilogue**

 **The End of All Things**

Draco stood frozen as his father fell, mutely watching the scene unfold. A wide range of emotions sprinted through his mind, from terror that Bellatrix was about to strike him down, to hope at his father's timely arrival and proclamation that Draco was indeed still his son, joy that Lucius had never truly stopped loving him, and finally sorrow and anger that Bellatrix struck Lucius down ruthlessly.

Bellatrix, growing more insane with every moment, was gloating, practically crowing as she danced about and laughing manically. Draco could not hear her, so close to being lost in his own despair. But before he could sink too far away, a burning at his side distracted him. Turning slightly, still deaf to the taunts and ranting of his Aunt, Draco noticed the sword _Andúril_. The blade brought warmth back to his body, almost in a reassuring way.

Solemnly understanding that it was up to him to redeem the name of his family, both of them, Draco lurched to his feet, the sword of kings shining brightly once more. "Aunt Bellatrix," he declared, interrupting her rant, "your sins to our people run long and deep, and in the name of the free peoples of the earth I cannot allow you to escape again to wreak more havoc among _my_ people! Prepare yourself for the justice that awaits you!" he said, growing to a commanding yell.

"You may try, dear nephew…" Bellatrix cackled, hefting her wand again with a smirk. At the same time, the orcs around them started to move once again, converging on Draco's position and his warriors all around.

" _Elendil_! _Elendil_!" Draco cried, rallying his warriors. "For freedom and the Lords of the West!" the men, dwarves, goblins, and other creatures of the forces of light roared their support, and readiness to die for their own freedom, and a cry from the West answered them.

High in the sky, soaring toward them like a mighty wave, were great winged creatures. From all that he had read and learned in the halls of Orthanc, Draco understood what was happening. The Valar had seen their valor, and deemed their forces one that required victory, and the great Lord of the West, _Manwë_ , had sent his servants the eagles to fight.

At the same time, towards the forest where the battle was fiercest, the forest exploded into a whirling of branches and roots. The trees themselves, so angered from what Draco could only guess at was the death of Quickbeam, literally rose up from their places, and fell upon the orcs, greater and more terrible than anything the Whomping Willow had hoped to unleash.

A great roar was heard from the far side of the castle, and a giant, far smaller than the others of Voldemort's forces charge in, another significantly smaller figure beside him, and Draco's heart swelled to see that Hagrid, the simple minded but big hearted friend had come to their aid. Warriors poured from the castle, the last of which who had held back to defend the innocent that were trapped, somehow feeling their need to be on the field of battle, and with eyes magnified by the magic of _Númenor_ , Draco could see the Professors of the school he had felt most at home leading students and soldier alike in a last mounted attack, spells flying in an ever increasing barrage to rid the school of the filth of darkness.

A flash of fire materialized on the far side of Bellatrix, and the mad witch whirled, stepping back as the orb of flame revealed both Harry and Faykan, along with Dumbledore's phoenix, all alive and well from their battle with the Dark Lord.

"It is over, Bellatrix. Your Lord is no more, and his darkness had ended." Harry commanded.

"Lies!" Bellatrix roared, lifting her wand, and the curse she knew so well on her lips. Time seemed to slow, and Draco knew what had to be. He loved family, and knew the power that it possessed, but Bellatrix had crossed a line that ought not to have been crossed, passing from simple illness to full blown psychosis, to harm her own extended family for some madman with power and darkness.

Once more the great sword, the once carried by all the Kings of _Númenor_ flashed light lightning through the air, and Bellatrix crumpled at last, her head rolling from the rest mid incantation.

Faykan looked on sadly, while Harry turned to watch the battle around them. "It is finished," he said slowly, and Draco felt the exhaustion of the entire year swarm over him at last. Their foes were slain, and sooner than they had hoped the forces of darkness would be routed by the armies of the Light. "Will peace return?" he asked simply, wondering for a moment why he still sounded like a little child in asking.

"In time," Faykan said, even as time slowly returned to normal around them, "the road is long yet, but this is the first, great step."

Draco nodded, accepting that answer. Turning from the battle, Draco made his way slowly to his friends, ready for a long rest from the troubles of war and death and pain.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

From the moment Bellatrix fell and the eagles of Valinor arrived, the battle turned once again, for the last time. The moral of the light swelled to the brightness of a sun at noonday, and with cries of freedom and glory to the Valar, the rallied forces of the West drove their enemies before them, capturing them in a great pincer so that none remained to take tidings out from the hills of Scotland even as the sun began to rise in the east.

Despite the great damage and pain that had taken place at the Great Battle of Hogwarts, it was not quite yet the end of fighting. The Forces of Light, bolstered by the defeat of their great foe, surged onward to retake all the lands that had been blighted by Sauron's evil, including the Ministry, Diagon, all the way out to the lands of France and Germany where his creatures had so terrified and desolated the land in their march to war.

Without their tyrannical leader, the forces of evil had no chances, being smitten and destroyed wherever they were discovered, and within only a few months from the great second battle of Hogwarts the land was free from their taint once again.

But there was one last thing to deal with, which Harry held on to by a thin chain, unwilling to even touch the evil item dangling from the very end. One of the Nine Rings of power, the one born by the Witch-King in life, which had allowed the Dark Lord Sauron to possess Voldemort when the man's Horcruxes had at last been destroyed.

There was only one thing to do with such an object. If Sauron was to be defeated for all time, never to possibly return to _Arda_ before the end, it must be destroyed. Together, the five of them traveled once more into the dark land of Mordor, to the very mountain of fire, and stood over the precipice where the river of lava bubbled and churned in the volcanic core.

They had all agreed that, due to the prophecy, it was Harry's right to destroy this final Horcrux. Smiling sheepishly at their support, the green robed boy turned to face the fire, and with all the skill of the Quidditch player that he was, hurled the chain and its evil cargo over the side. They watched as the lava seemed to leap up to catch the cursed ring, embracing it in its heart until the vile object melted away with a dull scream, and the all released a collective sigh of relief. It was finally and truly over. The power of Sauron was forever broken at last.

Once peace had at last been restored to the Wizarding world, both within and without the British Isle, a great reconstruction commenced. Led by Draco and Blaise Zabini, wielding their great family fortunes, (Draco having learned that not only had he not been truly disowned from the Malfoy family, and had access to their vaults, but also having great sums of gold from the vaults of the King stored away in the very bottom of Gringotts,) to rebuild homes and businesses, helping the poor back onto their feet and contributing vast sums to Ministry programs to aid in the relief effort for the destitute that had been harmed so much by the war.

Harry and Faykan contributed as well, but less so in actual labor and more in monetary contribution. They had a work all their own to see to, including the managing of the newly reorganized White Council, which had all but demanded that the pair be at the body's head, helping to lead the world, human and magical creature, into a new age.

The fall of Voldemort, and through him the banishment of Sauron the Deceiver for what all hoped was the last time marked the beginning of a brand new age of the earth, one in which magical nations around the globe were starting to come together and remember from where they're roots had come.

One impressive thing that Draco had specifically requested was the creation of Wizarding Britain's first museum, and had requesting all the treasures of the War of the Ring that Faykan had hoarded over the long centuries to be displayed.

"Never again should we forget the long, hard road that our people had walked, nor the trials we have faced," he told the assembled crowd for the building's grand opening. Somehow the crafty blond pureblood had managed to purchase a great deal of land at the opposite end of Diagon Alley from Gringotts Bank, which added a bookend of sorts to the wizarding marketplace.

Inside, along with the many relics and artifacts from days long forgotten, all assembled and dated and detailed by Faykan and Harry themselves of course, were things throughout all the ages of the world leading up to the War with Voldemort. Hermione was pleased to see that this display proudly showed the madman's name, specifically stating that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.

Hopefully Wizarding Britain would bring generations of children here from now on, and actually learn from their past instead of being doomed to repeat it time and again.

But not all the immediate aftermaths of the war were happy ones. Many families had been torn apart, and so many were slain in the battles and tortures that a great day of remembrance was had throughout the magical world. Often, the five heroes would take the time to visit the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, to see the graves of Lily and James Potter, Sirius Black, and Severus Snape, who was buried right next to his beloved Lily. The smaller stone that marked the Potion Master's final resting place was white, and gleamed in all seasons and times, proudly displaying its message for all to read.

' _Severus Tobias Snape_

 _Born January 9, 1960_

 _Died May 2, 1998_

 _Always_ '

The message was chosen by Faykan, who had know the Head of Slytherin the longest, and knew best out of all of them that the man's loyalty had been and forever was to Lily Evans Potter, throughout all his did, good and ill, it was her influence that guided him. Hermione distinctly remembered Harry mentioned once that Severus was the bravest man that he had ever known.

As the years past, and the group of heroes grew into their selected professions, they all made absolutely sure to remain close to each other, even if some of the time they only communicated via owls for months on end. Draco entered politics, naturally, and with his titles as _Sgiathatch Telcontar_ he ended up making quite the name for himself.

Draco and Ginny were married only a few years after the end of the war, and it was a purely magical setting, with Faykan presiding as the closest being to the Valar they had among them. Despite many arguments, and even several threats, the Istari managed to force Draco to wear his ceremonial Kings attire, stating that the wedding of a king, even if he was not ruling, was terribly important, and all manner of people would be there watching.

Although it was ever within his right to call into effect the kingship of old and assume a throne long forgotten, Draco never did, stating that the time of Kings had passed, and that the peoples of the earth needed to learn to rule themselves, but he would remain as long as he was able to guide them, and his family afterward. Perhaps, in time, a king would again be needed, but Draco was more than content to just be himself.

Nevertheless, he was powerless to escape the demands of the people, and Wizarding Britain forced him to at the least accept his crown, as a political figurehead, even if he chose to relinquish all power to the Ministry, much like the British muggle counterparts did. Begrudgingly, Draco had accepted the terms, and would be crowned on the same day as his wedding, despite many complaints regarding that tidbit of fact.

It was a lovely ceremony anyway, filled with many symbols of peace and triumph from those who had been part of the war. Hermione sat close to the front, holding hands with Ron, whom she had married only months before, and Harry, clad in his green robes and his emerald and white staff leaning against one shoulder.

As Draco and Ginny said their vows to each other, Faykan wove powerful magic around them, blessing them with prosperity and protection so long as they were faithful to each other, but Hermione also suspected a bit of the spell work was for show to the crowd. Faykan had always been a bit of a showoff.

As the couple was presented, Faykan produced the Crown of the High King of Gondor, and regally place it, along with a smaller tiara upon Draco and Ginny's heads, "Behold," he said regally, "now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!"

The crowd applauded, and many from the back cheered and whistled. As the Bride and Groom began their precession however, the crowd fell silent, until only one voice could be heard. Hermione couldn't see until the pair grew close that it was Draco himself singing, the gentle words of the isle of Númenor seeming to flow off his tongue, " _Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien Sinome Maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-Metta_."

As Draco and Ginny passed Hermione, Ron and Harry, a flight of gulls soared overhead, calling loudly the cries of the sea, and Hermione paused from the peaceful scene as she noticed Harry stiffen, tilting his head to sadly look up at the gulls, but before she could question him, he had gone to stand with Faykan at the rear of the precession.

It was a serene time, those peaceful years after the fall of Sauron. The Dwarves and Goblins forged an alliance stronger than any that had been seen in centuries, and a great amount of wealth was taken from the deepest parts of the mountains, yet it was not hoarded, as either race would have in times past, but given freely, to where all in time had riches to spare, used in wisdom and prudence for the betterment of the world.

In time, Harry was called upon to become the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, after the aging Professor McGonagall finally retired. The first thing he did in his new calling was to instate Faykan as the History of Magic Professor, finally breaking the spell that Binn's cast over all students that walked through those halls, and giving the history of the world as it truly was, not some image set up in the last two centuries.

Harry, as Headmaster, took upon himself the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and together the pair of Istari reinstated the Dueling Club, finally giving students the rounded education that they deserved. Later on, Neville became a Master in Herbology, and was also accepted into the school to teach, which made going back to Hogwarts a wonderful reunion for them all when they had the time.

Not that it was all sunshine and roses to be sure, as there was still a great amount of resentment between those of pureblood decent and those just entering their world for the first time. Several wannabe Dark Lords emerged over the next century, each rally a small following from among the poorer classes, and tried to ravage over the land. And each time, Harry and Faykan would arrive, light and power of the West in their eyes, and thrash the sods until they surrendered and allowed themselves to be taken to face trial and justice.

Not that any needed to fear the horrors of Azkaban any longer. The Ministry finally woke up about the Dementor's allegiance when the creatures abandoned them for Voldemort, and luckily were destroyed when the Witch-King fell at Hogwarts. Now they supplied a full guard staff of Aurors to patrol the prison, making absolutely sure that not only were the prisoners actually there, but that they were humanely kept away from the rest of society.

But even with all the good that seemed to be going on around them, with classes day to day business and other things to preoccupy them, Hermione noticed time and again when they visited Hogwarts that both Harry and Faykan seemed greatly distracted from the world around them, as if they were thinking ahead to a distant time and place.

She had tried asking about it once or twice, but both times she received the same response: "Don't worry about it, Hermione. Some things will come to pass when they are meant to…"

But worry she did, wondering for weeks and months as to what they could possibly have meant by those words. Was the pair of them waiting for some event to occur, some new darkness to arise perhaps? Or could it be something more? It was so confusing, but Ron kept her from becoming too far consumed with the mystery.

For a time, she had been heavily on her own day to day, while Ron went through the Auror Academy, having been granted special permission after his involvement in the destruction of Voldemort forces during the war, and while he had some small issues with the stealth portion of the final assessment, he still managed to pass. While the work had been plentiful, Ron didn't feel terribly comfortably in the Ministry, and quite soon he decided to quit from the Aurors and look for more meaningful work.

That was when Draco came forward with an offer. As the effective head of a multimillion galleon estate, with businesses and other investments that needed managing and security, he needed someone with the right skills to make sure that every knut was accounted for and used wisely, as well to make sure that his workers were protected.

He wanted to hire both Hermione and Ron to fulfill these roles, and the pair was more than happy to have meaningful work that paid well in addition. Ron spent much of his working time close to Draco, making sure that security was as tight as possible, while Hermione happily worked from the background, making everything from Draco's schedule to the payroll ran as smoothly as conceivably possible.

Things progressed like this for several years, until Faykan approached Hermione with an unusual request. Producing the Red Book of Westmarch from his cloak, he offered the tome to her. "Like Bilbo, Frodo and Samwise before us, our story needs to be recorded alongside their tales, to make sure that some record remains for the generations of the far flung future when we are all but forgotten."

"But," Hermione said, confused and frightened, "how could they forget? The war, Voldemort, it's all recorded already in the Wizarding museum."

Faykan just sadly shook his head, "So long with us and yet you've still so far to go in your learning Mrs. Weasley," he chided kindly, "Magic cannot endure. Even as the elves departed into the west ages ago, so magic will flee from the world in time. Decades, centuries, millennia from now and who will remain that could find our museum, let alone understand the history of it?"

"So you're saying magic is dying…" Hermione asked fearfully.

"Not immediately," Faykan consoled, "but in time, it will die out, have you not noticed that there are easily five muggleborns to every pureblood left. Like the slow progress of time, it is inevitable. And we need to make preparations for when it happens. The Red Book of Westmarch is the best bet for history to survive beyond us. The book is enchanted to never age, and no damage can come to it."

Hermione nodded solemnly, opening the book to see how many pages were left to her, but the book was completely filled. "But there's no room left…" she sighed wearily.

"Hermione… are you a witch or not?" Faykan teased gently.

She laughed, before taking her wand and conjuring new pages into the back of the book, marveling as the covers expanded to accommodate the increased size. Flipping gently through to the front cover page, Hermione saw the intricate writing that she had read so long ago, written in the very different Westron of the old world.

' _There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins_ ,' directly followed by another line, clearly written by a second hand, ' _The Downfall of the Lord of the Rings, and the Return of the King, by Frodo Baggins_ ,' and last, toward the middle of the book, a shakier hand had a final title, ' _The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, by Samwise Gamgee_.'

Three impressive figures of the tale of the rise and fall of Sauron, and Hermione immediately started trying to figure out a title for their adventure that could stand alongside those of these three hobbits. It was a daunting challenge, and something she would cherish to work on for several decades at the least, much of it spent in pulling information out of her friends so that it was as accurate as possible.

When she had managed to finish, Hermione gleefully showed the others her version of the tale, and each nodded their approval that it was a perfect depiction of their adventure. All that was left was a title, and Hermione had dawdled on picking one throughout the entire work of her writing, until now she stared once more at the title page, quill hovering over her ink bottle as she strained her mind to adequately sum up their entire adventure into a single phrase.

Then, with a stroke of brilliance, she set the quill to the page, and taking great care to make every letter even, she added, ' _The Age of Magic, and the End of the Rings_ , _by Hermione Weasley_ ,' just below the title set by Samwise.

The last part was a bit of a surprise even to her, as she had intended it to refer to the final destruction of the last ring of power that had been made for men, but from what was written she realized that two of the three Elven Rings were still on earth, upon the fingers of Faykan and Harry.

Still, they had both well agreed that it was a fitting title, and persuaded her to not change it. Hermione often was called upon in the following decades to read the story at birthdays and other events, especially by their group's collective children. Hugo and Rose, Hermione and Ron's son and daughter, along with Ginny and Draco's only child for the moment, Scorpius Elessar Telcontar, were ever enthralled by the stories of the Red Book, and would gather around Hermione knees with wide eyes as she read of the adventures, especially when they learned that everything in the book was true history and not just make believe.

It was the most wonderful time Hermione could ever remember, and nearly a century passed, them all enjoying the long lifetime that came with their magic, relishing their family and extended families as they respectively grew. If anything, the grandchildren were even better than their children, and the once tiny groups that attended Hermione's readings then swelled to over a few dozen.

But throughout all the time, Hermione was still drawn back to the radical changes that had occurred to Harry and Faykan at the end of the war. Over a hundred years and the pair seemed to have aged nearly three times that. Faykan was looking more like his old counterpart Lord Zemar of Germany, while Harry was turning into quite the Dumbledore-esk figure, albeit with a massive motif for green instead of wild, random colors and attention seeking garishness.

But what were most disturbing were their eyes. Not that they lost their radiance or changed color in any way, but they seemed so very distant now, almost lost in their own world. It pained Hermione to think that her two friends were slipping away because of something unknown, but she didn't know what she could do.

Understanding finally started to come when, on the hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the end of the battle with Sauron, a gull arrived with a message for Hermione and Ron, who were now living alone in the Burrow. Gazing at the message transfixed in her home, so radically changed from when Molly and Author had been alive, Hermione felt her heart sink in sadness.

' _It is time for me to depart from the world at long last, my friends. I would not vanish from your midst like a thief in the night, however, and would be overjoyed for you all to come attend my sending off at the Grey Havens. This message will act as a Portkey at sunrise, three days from now. Until then, my old friends, F._ '

Knowing what the words meant didn't soften the blow at all. Hermione had read the Red Book often enough to know how the story had ended, with Bilbo, Frodo, Gandalf and the other bearers of the Three Rings departing over the sea to the mystical Valinor, never to be seen again, and now Faykan was joining them in that realm. It made logical sense, as that was indeed where Faykan belonged, and Hermione supposed she knew in her heart that the Istari that had become one of her closest friends would leave them someday, but she had greatly hoped that it would be after her lifetime, and that this pain would not have come.

Ron didn't fare any better with the news. Solemnly gazing out across the vast gardens that he had had planted in memory of his parents, the red haired man remained silent, although Hermione could see the tears threatening to spill down his face.

"I didn't think he would ever leave…" Ron said after a moment of collecting himself, "but it was a stupid thought, really. I mean, he doesn't really belong here, does he? Faykan ought to be able to go home; after all we've been through with him, but still…"

"It's hard to let go once you care," Hermione surmised, taking her husband's hand in her own, and Ron nodded. "We're going…" he said finally, "I know Draco will be there as well, perhaps with Ginny and their family in tow, but who do we bring?" he asked. Hermione pondered that. While Faykan had been an ever present part of their families, she wasn't sure if this truly was a scene meant for the others. "I think it ought to be just us," she said after a moment, "after all, we're the only ones, alongside Draco and Harry, who really know who he is, and where he is going. The kids would understand the words, but I'm not sure if they fully believe that the stories are real…"

"I agree completely," Ron said, leaning down to kiss her. "This is why I married you; you always have the right ideas…"

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Harry stood in the most beautiful place he had ever laid eyes on before, waiting for his and Fay's friends to arrive. It was the appointed day, and here he was, at the Grey Havens, to see Faykan off on his voyage across the sea into the lands of Valinor. But there may be more than just seeing Faykan leave, as the now very-old-man-who-lived thought.

Much had happened during the war, but the crowning event, aside from their actual victory of course, was the moment when Harry himself saw the white lands for the first time, and made a choice to fight against darkness for all time with the aid of the Valar. He understood much of what transpired now, and how it had come to pass.

Faykan had gifted him with part of his magic, long ago when he was merely an infant who had just survived the killing curse. Originally Faykan believed that it was to purge the taint of Voldemort's magic from the baby's body, but the effect was far more than merely that. As the Horcrux was far too powerful for him to rid so easily, what instead happened was that the Istari's magic started to purify the rest of Harry's own magic, fundamentally changing him, like when powder is spread into water, and mixes in so finely that you cannot tell them apart.

Harry changed into an Istari, or began to that day. And with that change came great power and duties, hence Faykan's watch over the young Harry during their years at Hogwarts. And what he had learned had clearly so impressed the Valar, that they decided to do something that had never before been done. Instead of leaving Harry to his own devices, allowing him to merely believe him to be some powerful wizard, like Voldemort or Dumbledore, they contacted him via Galadriel, and gave him the choice to come fully into the heritage he had been gifted, knowing that Harry's pure heart would say yes.

What Faykan had told him all those years ago had also been true, that the Valar were seeking to restore the fifth member of the Istari, and many had had potential, but were never approached because of their own human failings.

But after the war, things started to change far more drastically. He seemed to age far quicker than his friends, along with Faykan, becoming a seeming old man within fifty years, easily appearing well over one hundred. Then there came the gulls at Draco's wedding. Once Harry heard those baleful cries, a deep abiding sadness had filled his heart, making him wish for a land that he had never before set foot upon.

From his research he learned that it was called the sea-calling, an ailment that the elves of old had had when their time to depart _Arda_ had come. For a time Harry had resisted, taking the position at Hogwarts and striving to lead a nearly normal life. But through trials and new villains that couldn't hold a candle to the threat of Voldemort or Sauron, Harry soon learned that he indeed was no longer needed in the world, and that filled him with a greater sadness.

That was when Faykan had approached him, one day in the summer of his twentieth year as Headmaster of Hogwarts. His closest friend then informed him that someday soon a ship would return out of the West to take him home, and that, as an Istari, Harry had the choice to come with him into the Undying Lands, or remain here in Middle Earth.

At the time, Harry hadn't even considered that leaving was an option. He had almost fallen into deep depression at the thought that he, like Fay had described long before, would simply persist as those dear to him grew old, moved on with their lives, and inevitably died. When Arthur and Molly had passed away, surrounded by family and a great host of friends, that thought had struck him hard.

But now, a chance to depart from the world, go to a place where fear and pain were mere memories of old ills. It had taken until this moment for Harry to make up his mind, and as he watched his friends walk slowly through the archway into the ruins of the elven harbor, he knew it was the right choice.

Hermione, Ron, and Draco all seemed sad at the event they were coming to attend, but it was a peaceful type of sadness, not bitter or angry. Even Hermione, who had been affected by their great age the worst of them all, smiled as Harry approached her.

Hugging her gently, (They were all approaching two hundred after all,) she said, "Still young and spry as ever I see, Harry…"

He smiled, knowing that they all understood, in part, why he still seemed so youthful in comparison to them now. While he had advanced in age rapidly, once there, his body had nearly frozen from change, and he felt as strong as he had in his forties as he did now.

Turning toward the water, he pointed down to where Faykan was waiting, staring off into the sea. "Shall we go?" he asked, and the others agreed. As they approached, a marvelous thing occurred. Out of the far horizon, a ship appeared, gleaming white with the reflected rays of the sun.

"Is that?" Ron asked, only to be answered by Hermione. "It is. A white ship of Valinor."

The curved, swan head of the ship bobbed gently in the surf as the ship pulled up to the harbor, never so much as knocking the side. With a wave of his hand, Faykan shifted a gangplank into position across the water. Harry was about to turn and face the others, tell them of his decision, when a gasp from Hermione turned him back about.

Three figures appeared on the main deck of the ship, clad in flowing robes exactly like Harry's and Faykan's, except in a pale sky blue, a deep earthy brown, and a radiant white. Faykan bowed to the three, who walked all the way to the very edge of the gangplank, but did not set foot on the harbor.

" _Mithrandir_ ," Faykan said, addressing the one clad in white.

"Alatar, old friend," the white wizard said, a twinkling in his eyes that reminded Harry so strongly of Dumbledore.

Faykan removed from his belt the sword _Glamdring_ , and handed it over to the leader of the Istari, "It is time that I returned this to you, it has been a most useful gift in all my dangers, but it need not see any more battle till the end of time." Faykan said solemnly.

Gandalf the White accepted the blade, moving back along the plank to make room for the next Istari, Radagast the Brown. Pulling Dumbledore's wand from his robes, Faykan handed the item over to the wizard, "I apologize for the condition it is in," Faykan said sadly, as Radagast returned the wand to its size as his staff, "it was mishandled through the ages…"

"So much pain and death has this seen," Radagast said sadly, stroking the staff lightly, "It is time for this to return home and be purified in the waters of the Undying Lands, so we may forget all this evil."

Finally, the light blue wizard approached, and Faykan turned to Harry, holding out one hand. Knowing what was wanted; Harry produced his family's invisibility cloak, passing it to Faykan who then gave it to Pallando, the Cyan. The other wizard smiled as he looked at the cloak. Turning to Harry, he said, "Your family has treated my gift well. I am glad."

Harry bowed slightly to the powerful Istari, and Hermione nudged him in the ribs. "What," he said quietly, as Faykan and Pallando started to talk together.

"It's Merlin. Pallando the Blue is Merlin!" Hermione whispered excitedly, and Harry looked again at the Istari, raising his eyebrows as he saw the perfect resemblance to the fabled wizard. "So he is…" Harry said, smiling. Pallando at last returned to the other two Istari on the main part of the ship, and Faykan at last turned to face them all, a worn smile on his face, which was shining with the joy of reuniting with his oldest friends.

 _~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~_

Alatar the Azure, or Faykan Undol to those who stood before him now, gazed at the scene of sadness before him. Hermione, Ron, and Draco, all brave warriors, stood with tears ready to fall from their faces. There was little to do about softening the truth of the matter.

"Well… farewell, my dearest friends," he said simply, almost shrugging at the lightness of the statement. "Here, at last, on the shores of the sea, is the end of our fellowship in this world."

 **Clearly it was not helping, as they all looked far more miserable at his words, so he attempted something in Quenya instead. The words of the elves always were easier on the listener,** **"** ** _Á lelya séressë! Lá equen: áva nainuvalyë; an lá ilyë níreli nar úmiéo_** **."**

 **Turning toward the ship, Alatar took a single step, before halting again. The gazes of his fellow Istari, halted him. Sighing tiredly, he turned back. He had struggled with the last piece of information that he had shared with Harry about his departure.**

 **"It is time** _Calenrohtar_ **," he said solemnly, knowing the stir that his words would cause before he spoke them. All three of the others turned as one to gaze confused at the green Istari.**

 **"What does he mean, Harry?" Hermione asked, and Alatar smiled, having hundreds of thousands of memories flood his mind of her inquisitiveness.**

 **"We set out, unknowingly at first, to save the Wizarding World," Harry answered, "and it has been saved. But in the process, my place in it has run its course."**

 **Understanding was slow to dawn upon the others, but the years had given them much wisdom, and they grew silent as the realized the plight of both Harry and Alatar himself, and why they must leave Middle Earth.**

 **"I see…" Hermione said after a few moments, while the others began nodding soon after.**

 **Hugs were exchanged, words spoken of remembrance and heartfelt convictions, but to all of these Alatar remained aloof. He was, for once in a long time, quite unsure how best to handle the concept of he himself departing instead of losing his friends.**

"Fay…" the call turned him back. Ron, Draco and Hermione were all waiting, smiling at him, "You didn't think we were just going to let you leave without a proper goodbye did you?" Despite their nearby two hundred years of life, all three moved with incredible speed to encircle the Azure Istari in a group hug.

But, all too soon, it was time for the departure, and both Alatar and Harry stepped onto the gangplank of the White Ship. The very moment that he set foot on the ship itself, Alatar felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders, and looking at Harry, he could see the same in the other Istari's face.

Olórin stood there, smiling as Alatar approached him. "Well done," was all the White Wizard needed to say. Alatar bowed slightly, acknowledging the praise and the welcome once more into the midst of the wise and powerful.

Turning back to face the shore, Alatar saw Harry at the edge of the ship, smiling at his friends as they waved. The ship began to pull out to sea, and Alatar joined Harry at the ship's edge. There were tears freely flowing on all three faces that watched them, but joy was evident on their faces.

Raising a hand, Alatar began to sing one final time for them to hear, the language of Valinor echoing across the water as the land he had worked so hard to protect started to slip away. Harry watched him, and blankly Alatar realized that this would be the first time that his closest friend could understand the words he had sang so often to him in times of trial.

" _Lay down, your sweet and weary head. Night is falling; you have come to journey's end. Sleep now, and dream of ones who came before. They are calling, from across the distant shore._

Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see, All of your fears will pass away Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping.

What can you see, on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass. A light on the water, all souls pass.

Hope fades, into the world of night, through shadows falling, out of memory and time.  
Don't say, we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again. And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping.

What can you see, on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass. A light on the water, Grey ships pass Into the West…

"

Before long, Middle Earth was completely out of sight, and as Harry and Alatar turned to the opposite side of the ship, the white sand of the Undying Lands blossomed into view.

"Home at last…" Alatar said, relishing the peace that emanated from the land itself. After thousands of years, his work, and Harry's as well, was complete. And their reward loomed ahead.

"White shores, and beyond a far green country, under a swift sunrise…" Harry surmised aloud, smiling widely as they drew near.

 **The End**

 _Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien Sinome Maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-Metta._ _: Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place I will abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world._

 ** _Á lelya séressë! Lá equen: áva nainuvalyë; an lá ilyë níreli nar úmiéo :_** Go in peace! I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.


End file.
